


Nightwing: Sins Of The Fathers

by Nightwing1993



Series: Nightwing Series [1]
Category: Batman (Comics), Nightwing (Comics), Teen Titans (Comics)
Genre: Crime Fighting, Crimes & Criminals, F/M, Gen, Mystery, Organized Crime
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-22
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2019-08-27 19:35:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 106,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16708738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nightwing1993/pseuds/Nightwing1993
Summary: Dick Grayson is in his second year of college, his relationship with Batman strained, he's decided to go solo - but balancing a personal life and vigilantism isn't easy. As he unravels a conspiracy that threatens the whole of Gotham, he realises he needs all the help he can get.





	1. Ashes To Ashes

 

My ears were ringing, and the air was thick with dust, I woke up in a heap amongst piles of rubble. My vision returned in a sharp flash but it was unfocused. My eyes stung as they were pecked by the snow that had started to fall in from the hole that had been blown in the ceiling above us. I'd been lucky, it didn't feel like any shrapnel had hit me, and there definitely wasn't much debris on top of me because I could move. As far as injuries, I could only feel a broken rib.

 

I felt drunk, like everything that had just happened was some kind of hallucination – like a lousy Vertigo trip.

 

My hearing was coming back, I could hear voices now. They were calling for Batman and me. I could only assume they hadn't seen what had happened.

 

The debris on my leg, which appeared to be a metal girder of some kind, suddenly felt lighter "Nightwing!" It was Batgirl, Barbara Gordon, she lifted the beam off me and heaved it to one side. Her hand wrapped around mine and pulled me from where I was laying – her suit was covered in dust, and her lip was bleeding, but other than that she looked reasonably unscathed. I could only hope my new sidekick had faired the same.

 

Barbara slung my arm over her shoulder and lifted up my chin to look into my eyes "Nightwing, what happened?" I was a man of many words, but I didn't answer her straight away. There was no way to tell her, I couldn't, "Nightwing…" She lowered her voice to a whisper, "Dick, where's Bruce?""

 

We walked arm-over-shoulder, towards the edge of the pit we'd been fighting on top of – everything we'd just experienced still swarming its way back into my mind. I weakly pointed down into the flames and rubble that now filled what had before been a large sewage duct. "He's down there, Barb" I finally said, "He's gone."

 

** Earlier that year**

 

College was a drag, especially for someone in my unique position. I was studying for a degree in criminal psychology, something I thought I knew a lot about. I figured since I was no longer under Bruce Wayne's care that I might want to get myself a job one day – as being a vigilante didn't pay and even though I still had access to the trusty trust fund, I wasn't feeling so great about not standing so much on my own two feet.

 

Unfortunately, my second-year studies weren't going all that well. In the year and a half that had passed since my return from living in Titan Tower, things had been heating up in the criminal underworld of Gotham, and I had been out on patrol almost every night for three weeks, leaving very little time for my studies... and sleep. The sleep I'd been involuntarily catching up on in class, much to the professor's dismay.

 

"Mr Grayson!" Professor Crane called out. I woke up abruptly, I'd been dreaming about my patrol with Barbara the previous night, lucky I'm not a sleep talker.

 

"Yes Professor?" I responded with an awkward smile. The girl to my left, I didn't know her name, let out a little chuckle. The professor's spectacles were perched on the end of his long hooked nose, he glared right at me with his piercing black eyes.

 

"I was wondering if you had any insight on the question I just asked, Mr Grayson?"

 

"Erm, could you repeat the question?" I had no idea what he'd said, obviously.

 

"A little hard of hearing are we?" He growled. He pointed to the girl sitting to my left, "Miss Daggett, could you please enlighten our poor friend?"

 

The girl turned and looked at me, she was beautiful with long blonde hair tied up. She wore glasses, but I could see that she had crystal blue eyes – undoubtedly one of the popular girls, which made it all the more embarrassing when she slowly worded the professor's question out for me.

 

"The _professor_ , which is that man over there at the front of class, if you'd forgotten," she started, her tone was one of someone who was deeply annoyed "Wanted to know what you thought about Walter Langer's profiling of high-ranking war criminals during World War II," I looked at her blankly, I had no idea what she was talking about.

 

"Miss Daggett, could you please share a few of your notes with our slumberous friend," Crane droned. Miss Daggett looked less than impressed, I could tell that it was going to be one hell of a long class.

 

The remainder of the class ran as smoothly as rollerblades on a dirt track, with Crane singling me out another three times before getting bored.

 

As I slumped out of the class with my bag weighing heavily on my right shoulder, I felt a hand clasp over it. I turned to see one of my best friends, Emily, who'd been sat at the far side of the classroom. She was short with dark hair tied up in a bobble, and wore 'ironic' hipster glasses, she always wore the same black hoodie and some kind of pop culture T-Shirt, today it was Star Wars, the ensemble was usually completed with some denim shorts, black tights and a pair of chequered canvas pumps. We'd been friends since my short stints in High School, probably because we were both outcasts in our own ways.

 

"Dude, that was brutal," She smirked up at me.

 

"I'm aware of that," I replied with a yawn.

 

"Out again last night?"

 

"Yeah, I uh, went to a bar," I said, thinking fast.

 

"What bar was that then?"

 

"One down by the docks, I went with Barb" I wasn't lying, we'd been down at a biker bar the previous night – just your run of the mill information interrogation with the barman. We were looking for members of the Brothers of Satan gang, who we'd traced from more than a few drug-related crime scenes.

 

"The docks? As in Bleake Island Docks? You sure you weren't looking to score some crack?" She laughed.

 

"Oh, you know me…" I said, sarcastically.

 

"You do know it's not good to spend so much time with your ex," She said, looking at me disapprovingly. I knew she was right but beating on criminals with your ex-girlfriend was a little different from going on a dinner date, "You've not hung out with Nate and me in a while you know, he's gonna start thinking you don't like him."

 

Nathan was another buddy from high school, he was a little older than Emily and I – he went straight into the police force after school. A choice I can't say I was a big fan of, I didn't like the idea of him being in so much danger. But it did have its perks concerning information, even if I had to trick him into telling me things. I tried to avoid going to Jim Gordon for info where possible, that way I wouldn't run into Bruce. Barb having moved out of her father's and gotten a job at a library meant her access to information was lessened too.

 

Emily and Nate were clueless about my secret identity; lazy student Dick Grayson wasn't exactly a prime suspect for masked vigilante in their eyes.

 

"I'll try and get together with you on Thursday?" I smiled.

 

" _Dick_ …" She sighed.

 

"What?"

 

"It _is_ Thursday"

 

"Oh… Friday then?" I couldn't go that night, I had to follow up on a lead from our little interrogation the night before.

 

"Fine, Friday. But you'd better call me, I can't deal with your flakiness this weekend, dude."

 

"I solemnly swear that I will not flake," I said with one hand in the air and the other on a floating invisible bible.

 

"I've heard that one before," She said, rolling her eyes, "And you've definitely lied under oath before."

 

"I know, I know," I said, "I'm very sorry, again."

 

The next words to come out of my mouth were stopped in their tracks by a somewhat aggressive slam to my arm by a sandy-haired girl with a nose-piercing whose need to get through the crowd was apparently more important than common courtesy.

 

"Ouch," I winced, rubbing my arm exaggeratedly, "Who was that?"

 

"I'm not sure, I've seen her around, think she's a first year," Emily said, shrugging her shoulders.

 

***

 

The rooftops were my natural habitat; it was such a feeling of freedom jumping from roof to roof in the night air – I definitely wasn't going to fall asleep doing this. I'd learned to walk on a high wire, so it was second nature to me to be soaring through the air without a safety net.

 

I was following a biker with 'Brothers of Satan' emblazoned on the back of his denim vest, who's bike I'd put a GPS tracker on, the barman had given us word that the guy would be moving shipments of drugs for someone in the city but we didn't know who. I thought it was pretty odd that drugs were being moved around on motorcycles considering their lack of storage space, but I guessed it depended entirely on the drug, and if our suspicions were correct this was a money-maker even in dime bags.

 

It was a testament to my overall stamina that I managed to keep up with the biker – all the running did make me miss my Wingcycle, but I wasn't gonna go crawling back to Bruce and ask him for it.

 

I'd followed the guy for about a mile and a half when he finally stopped and got off his bike. He untied the small package from the back of his Harley Davidson and walked up a back alley to the service entrance of what appeared to be a local deli. There wasn't much of a vantage point for me to see what was going on.

 

My target pressed on a buzzer on the outside wall. After about a minute of watching the biker pacing back and forth I heard the service door open up – a guy stepped out and walked down the ramp toward the biker, he was wearing a grey suit, he looked very business-like; but I'd seen plenty of hired goons that wore suits, so that didn't really mean anything.

 

The 'Brother of Satan' passed the other man the package he'd brought across town. The recipient slit the tape on the parcel with a small penknife and peeked inside, he nodded. It was beginning to look like a run of the mill drug deal.

 

Still, I wasn't going to turn down an opportunity to remove some drug pushing scumbags from the street.

 

Nothing was happening, I was going in.

 

I jumped across the alley and, silently as I could, dropped on to the fire escape above the two men. Neither of them flinched so they mustn't have heard me. I lowered myself down on the grapple hook until I was hanging upside down just above them, I loved this part.

 

"Boo!" I said with a smile as I knocked the two men's heads together. Causing the suited thug to bust his nose before the pair stumbled backwards.

 

"Shit, it's the bat!" The biker shouted as he fumbled to draw his gun. A swift kick saw his pistol fly into a dumpster sat against the alley wall. As the kick connected I twisted my torso to get in a position to follow the kick with a punch to the suited stranger's face, spraying more blood from his already seeping nose. The two men dropped to the floor simultaneously – the suit was out cold.

 

The biker started to crawl away, loudly scrambling along the floor and murmuring something vaguely threatening, the moron.

 

"Slow down, you're making this very difficult for me," I joked.

 

I was about to go after him when I heard a click behind me, damn it, it had to be a gun – the click was followed by a hum which sort of resembled the sound of a large refrigerator.

 

"Hello, Batman" A familiar monotone voice droned, oh god, it was a refrigerator.

 

I turned around sharply "Wrong!" I responded to the man now standing before me.

 

Before saying another word, the man fired a sharp bolt of ice at me from the enormous gun attached with tubes to a pack on his back. – I dodged out of the way, just barely and called out: "Mr Freeze, long time no see!"

 

Doctor Victor Fries was once a brilliant scientist. His wife contracted a rare disease, and he was struggling to find a cure when he invented his freeze gun. His first act as Mr Freeze was to save his wife by putting her into a cryogenic state. Someone tampered with his experiments and caused an explosion; he ended up getting knocked into a vat of chemicals which altered his body, making it impossible for him to properly regulate his temperature – his wife, Nora, was killed in the blast.

 

The deluded doctor went on to wear a gargantuan suit of armour that kept his body temperature at zero, with a glass dome over his head and some bright red goggles. I assumed that there was some use for them, but I did wonder if he just picked them to make himself look scarier. The doctor's once-brilliant mind then turned to crime; he'd become a bit of a goon-for-hire in recent years, he seemed to be trying to accumulate cash for something.

 

"You're not Batman, how disappointing," He said, without a shred of emotion in his voice "No matter, I will settle for Robin."

 

"I'm not…" He fired straight at me before I could finish, I back-flipped on to the dumpster behind me, and he shot again – I responded with another flip which got me to safety behind the dumpster. I noticed the Biker I'd just knocked down hadn't managed to make it very far down the alley, maybe he could tell me why Freeze was there…

 

I un-holstered my Escrima Sticks and rolled across the alley to get myself behind some trash cans. Freeze fired again, much closer this time; I could feel the chill on my neck.

 

"Hey, Freeze… Do you wanna build a snowman?" I shouted tunefully, in an attempt to rile him.

 

He answered me with another bolt of ice, freezing the trash cans I was behind entirely. I had to move fast, or I was going to end up as a lovely Nightwing-shaped popsicle.

 

"I gotta say, it's an embarrassing step down for you – protecting some lowly drug pushers!" I taunted.

 

He didn't respond; he wasn't an easy person to taunt – very serious.

 

It was time for the trusty grapple hook built-in to my Escrima stick. I took aim at the top of the fire escape I had dropped down from and fired my line, Freeze shot at it – but missed it by an inch, which gave me time to zip up to the roof.

 

I dropped flat on to the roof for a second to get my bearings. It took a few seconds to figure out my next move. The Escrima Sticks had a built-in electronic pulse which acted like a taser, among other useful gadgets. With that in mind, I threw a pair of smoke pellets down at Freeze to impair his vision.

 

I waited for the smoke to build up and turned on the thermal vision in my domino mask, he wasn't the most precise target in terms of heat, but there was just about enough heat being expelled from the suit for me to know where to strike.

 

Leaping from the roof, I landed feet first on Freeze's glass helm, barely cracking it as I somersaulted backwards. Upon landing, I jabbed the Escrima Sticks into his back using the taser function to overload the power supply in his suit.

 

I'd gotten lucky – the electric pulse surged through his suit, blowing out several screws and throwing the good doctor straight into the alley wall. His fishbowl smashed on impact. He let out one final groan before passing out.

 

That was too easy, I thought to myself. Every previous encounter I'd had with Freeze had been much more complicated, he must have gotten rusty in his old age – or, I thought for a second with a smirk, maybe I was just that good.

 

Sadly, it appeared that the biker and his suited friend had escaped in the commotion – but my GPS tracker was still on the bike. At least one of them wouldn't be on the streets for much longer.

 

I cautiously turned Freeze over and disconnected his freezing gun from the pack on his back, cuffing the ice giant to a drain pipe with both wrists so he couldn't go anywhere while I carried out my investigation. Once I was sufficiently content that Freeze was no longer a threat, I sent out a beacon to the GCPD via my wrist communicator with all the details they needed.

 

As I suspected, the package which the suited goon had kindly dropped in the loading bay contained a few bundles of what looked like cocaine, although I still wasn't convinced. Mr Freeze seemed like quite an expensive bodyguard for a measly drug deal like this one… Maybe he just didn't care anymore, but perhaps something else was going on. I took a few sample bags of the drugs for analysis, just in case.

 

There was a key that had been left in an electric lock next to a large corrugated steel door – I pressed it, and the door slowly creaked open.

 

Beyond the door was a warehouse which was connected to the back of the Deli, it was utterly empty bar a few shelves – it must have been a very new drug operation. The building wasn't registered in anyone's name, so we didn't have a suspect, but whoever was running this gig must have already had some serious cash to play with if they could afford protection from Mr Freeze – either that or the good doctor had really lowered his hourly rates.

 

I waited on the roof for the police to arrive and take Freeze back to Arkham, which they did, much more swiftly than usual. Gordon was among them, but I couldn't stick around to talk to him – I had an investigation to finish.

 

***

 

I lived in a crappy apartment within walking distance of the University, it wasn't well decorated, it wasn't well furnished, but it was mine – plus, it came with a kickass loft. The loft was my own personal Batcave - granted, like the rest of the apartment, it wasn't much to look at. It was a juxtaposition of computers, security systems, and rustic wooden beams, an interior decorator's worst nightmare.

 

The equipment was all salvaged from Bruce's old stuff that Barbara brought for me when I left the mansion. She even set me up my own secret door behind a bookcase which I was strangely proud of, very cliché. Alfred populated the shelves with books and DVDs that he insisted I must take a look at, he gave me my movie education growing up – that's why the fingerprint scanner to open the loft was attached to his favourite movie, Errol Flynn's Robin Hood.

 

I got home that night at around 1am, entering through the roof, it was a pretty early time to be getting back considering the night's events. Placing the drug sample down on a side table, I removed myself from my Nightwing armour and pulled on a vest and some sweatpants.

 

Before I went on, I needed a coffee.

 

Creaking my way down the stairs from the loft, I pressed my thumb against the metal panel on the back of the secret bookshelf door which slid open to reveal the lounge of my distractingly messy apartment.

 

I flicked on the main light, which lit the lounge and attached kitchen. In an attempt to distract from the peeling wallpaper and make the place feel more homely, I'd covered the walls with framed pictures. It was nice to see familiar faces when I came back from a patrol even if some of them reminded me of things I'd rather not think of. The pictures of Jason especially brought out feelings of failure, and Bruce niggling feelings of resentment. Some of the Titans; Roy Harper, Wally West, Rachel Roth and a hooded Victor Stone smiled down at me. I had a picture of the whole crew, but I had to keep that one in the loft as Starfire and Beast Boy would likely grab my guests' attention even in civilian clothes.

 

My favourite of all the pictures though sat on the television stand. I picked it up and smiled at it. It was an old photo, taken from a newspaper. My mother and father, John and Mary Grayson, stood smiling in a circus tent wearing their 'Flying Graysons' uniforms whose colour scheme had been the inspiration for my original 'Robin' costume. I was positioned between them, only eight years old, a year before they died, with a grin on my face. The only flaw in the image was the disgruntled-looking cleaner in the background with netting slung in a bundle over his back, glaring into the camera resentfully.

 

Resting the image back by the TV I clicked on the kettle in the kitchen and filled a cup with coffee grounds while it boiled. The smell of the coffee was strangely pacifying, which was the exact opposite effect I was going for. I poured in the boiling water and took a sip a little too early, mildly burning my top lip.

 

I made my way back up to the loft, closing the door behind me. Blowing before taking another sip, I was hit by a surge of caffeine, which perked me up remarkably. I then grabbed the drug sample and pulled a chair up to a table full of technological contraptions. One of which was the chemical analysis machine that Barb had put together for me. It made an awful humming noise when I turned it on, it was one of a few pieces of kit that I really needed to replace. I poured a few grains of the white powder into the machine and typed 'full analysis' into the command screen. Naturally, it stalled, and I had to give it a hit to get it going again.

 

While the chemical analysis was going on, I took another sip of coffee and checked my tracker for the biker's position. Unfortunately, the signal was dead. It meant I'd have to put some more time in at the biker bar to find the guy.

 

The screen eventually lit up on the Chemical Analysis Machine with the word 'match' all across it, with cocaine you could often trace certain manufacturer's marks or environmental conditions. Only this wasn't cocaine, according to my rickety machine, it was Star City's favourite addictive substance - Vertigo.


	2. Just One Fix

Another day, another lovely Criminal Psychology lesson with creepy Professor Crane.

 

It was hard to focus on the lessons knowing that Vertigo was in Gotham – it had been a big deal in Star City, causing mass addiction and a lot of deaths. From what I understood, the centres that Oliver Queen funded to rehabilitate Vertigo addicts were still very much in operation. Rumour had it that the Green Arrow put the only supplier, a guy who aptly named himself Count Vertigo, out of business permanently.

 

"Today we will be focussing our attention on a very relevant topic, especially to our fair city of Gotham" Crane began "We will be studying the psychology and motivations of masked vigilantes."

 

Great, just what I needed, a classroom full of people theorising my motivations in life.

 

"I'm going to put you in pairs for this assignment" he continued "You and your partner, which I will select, have to research vigilantes and their decisions – and conclude whether or not you believe these acts to be necessary and justified or just a blatant disregard for our laws and rules. I'll be very interested to see people's conclusions."

 

I'd only ever seen Crane smile when he was causing misery to someone, which meant he was about to do something evil. Classroom evil anyway, not Joker evil.

 

"So your partnerships are as follows…" Crane began to run off a list of names, it was crazy how many names I didn't recognise – I needed to socialise more "…Emily Briggs, your partner will be Tyreese Anderson" Emily looked at me and rolled her eyes, Crane knew that Emily and Tyreese were from entirely different social groups and had no interest in spending time together – I could see where this list was going.

 

"…Dick Grayson" Finally "You'll be partnered with Melissa Daggett" I saw him smirk again, Melissa was the girl who'd had to patronisingly explain what I'd missed during my nap in Crane's previous lecture - this was embarrassing, the bastard.

 

Melissa turned her head to look at me, she'd purposely avoided making eye contact with me until that point, she didn't seem impressed. What made matters worse was that she was still stunningly beautiful, even more so than I remembered from the day before. This was shaping up to be a fantastic week.

 

***

 

Once class was over I made my way back to my apartment, Emily had caught up with me outside of class to tease me about my new 'study buddy' as she so humorously put it.

 

As much as I'd have liked to dwell on the awkwardness of my predicament like a rational human being, I had superheroey type stuff to do - I called Barbara on the way home to get her assistance on the Vertigo situation.

 

"Hey, Dick – what's up?" She said.

 

"I need you to come over tonight if you can, I could use your help," I explained.

 

"Is it important? Like, super important?"

 

"I'd say so… Depends if your other plans are super important."

 

"I have a date" I had to pause for a second, Barb and I dated for quite a while two separate times and I still wasn't comfortable talking to her about relationship-style things.

 

"Oh… in that case can I just send a sample to the Batcave for you to analyse?" I wasn't about to act like what she'd said bothered me, even though it did.

 

"Sure, no problem," She said without hesitation. It seemed to me that we were in very different places, I might have been reluctant to tell her about someone I was dating - I'm relatively sure we'd never even talked about Kori, who was my only other truly serious relationship.

 

"Alright, I'll send it over later, have a good date," I said, sounding almost sincere.

 

"Thanks, see you later," She said, hanging up the phone. As she wasn't coming over to help me out, it looked as if I was getting an early night.

 

***

 

It was very rare that I got an afternoon off from being both Dick Grayson and Nightwing, so it was nice to catch up on some shut-eye. I was in the middle of a particularly pleasant dream about fighting various criminals with a giant wooden mallet when there was an incredibly loud knock at my door. Maybe Barbara's date didn't go so well.

 

Pulling on a T-shirt and tumbling out of my bedroom, I made my way to the apartment door.

 

"Surprise!" Emily shouted as I opened the door. She and Nate were stood in my hallway with a crate of beer.

 

Nate had a shaved head and a goatee which made him look like he was much older than us – when in fact he was only older by about two years. He was a bulky guy with a ripped physique, he spent a lot of time in the gym and usually wore skin-tight t-shirts to show off his muscles. He came from a very poor African-American family and had grown up in a rough neighbourhood in the Bleake Island district before moving into the city.

 

Nate's older brother had died in a gang shootout when he was in his early teens – but, much to his mother's relief, instead of following in his brother's footsteps and going down the wrong path he turned his anger into something positive and joined the Police Force.

 

"Hey, guys, what's the occasion?" I yawned, rubbing my eyes.

 

"Dude, we were meeting tonight – I knew you'd flake!" Emily explained.

 

"She did say you were gonna flake, Grayson" Nate chimed in.

 

"Sorry guys, I totally forgot, I'm a little overworked right now – I'm not really dressed to go out either" I pathetically replied.

 

"Hence the beers, my brother" Nate grinned and walked right past me into my lounge.

 

Emily laughed and followed him in.

 

"Sure guys, come on in, make yourselves at home," I said to myself, closing the door behind them.

 

Emily and Nate sat on the sofa, and I took the armchair to the left of it. Nate passed me an open beer "Thanks," I responded. Emily switched on the TV, Bruce was on the news at some kind of gala.

 

"Oh look it's your big famous daddy" Emily joked.

 

"Very funny, can we just watch a movie or something?" I asked.

 

"Sure" Emily hopped up and skipped over to my bookcase. She began skimming through the various titles, I had the strangest vision of her pulling the wrong DVD and opening my secret door which left a bit of a nervous lump in my throat. In spite of the fact I knew it required a fingerprint to work, "Dude, your movies are all really effin' old."

 

"Just 'cause you only like films that were made in the last five years…" I responded.

 

"Ha, you know I love Star Wars," She said.

 

"True, bet you love the prequels more – all that beautiful CGI," I joked.

 

"Don't even get me started on that shit" Nate chimed in "I mean, Jar Jar Binks, the hell is that?"

 

"Don't get me started on that, damn you, Lucas," Emily growled.

 

"Yousa finda me a movie yet?" I mocked, channelling my inner Jar Jar.

 

"Seriously dude, I got nothin'. I mean, you actually have a copy of Without a Paddle – you're so uncool it hurts" How could she say, that I thought to myself.

 

"Without a Paddle is a severely underrated movie" I protested, Nate gave me a look of frightened disgust.

 

"Bro…" He said, judgmentally.

 

"Well, what do you suggest?"

 

"You got Marley and Me over there?" He asked Emily, and I turned our heads to him in confusion "What? It's a great movie."

 

"You were giving me dirty looks over Without a Paddle, but you wanna watch Marley and Me?"

 

"That movie is a classic, it gives me serious feels!"

 

"Serious feels?" Emily scowled "I never expected someone as masculine as you to have 'feels' in your vocab."

 

"Man, I cried more at that movie than I did at Schindler's List," Nate said with pride.

 

"A movie about a dog upset you more than a movie about the Holocaust… I give up, let's just watch Without a Paddle" She declared, making her way to the DVD player.

 

"So, Nate how's things down at the station?" I asked in an attempt to change the subject.

 

"Pretty standard, Batman takes care of the big guns, and we clean it up – you won't believe who I had to bring in last night," Nate seemed pretty excited, I had to play along even though I knew what he was going to say.

 

"Go on?" I asked with false enthusiasm.

 

"Mr Freeze"

 

"No way, what was that like?"

 

"Crazy, man," Nate explained "I mean, he didn't really do anything 'cause Batman had already knocked him out – and the Major Crimes Unit got to do all of the actual legwork, we were just the backup."

 

Bruce was always getting the credit for my handy-work, Freeze probably said it was Batman too to avoid the embarrassment of saying he got his ass kicked by 'Robin' in spite of the fact I'm actually Nightwing now. You'd think after three years as Nightwing people would remember the name.

 

"You ever seen the Bat?" Emily interjected.

 

"I saw him running across a rooftop once after he'd stopped a robbery" Nate claimed - Wrong, that was me too.

 

"We're doing a project on caped-crusaders in class this week, Dick has been partnered up with his girlfriend" She laughed.

 

"Oh shit, the hot chick you totally embarrassed yourself in front of yesterday?" Nate asked.

 

"Do you guys just talk about everything?" I asked, annoyed.

 

Emily shrugged "Pretty much!"

 

"Seriously though - you need to get out there, bro," Nate said "I mean, we loved Barb and everything but you gotta move on, man – I could totally set you up with someone from the station."

 

He was right, but I wasn't exactly in a relationship headspace, and I also wasn't into blind dates "A blind date?" I quizzed "Maybe come back with that idea in a couple months."

 

"Months? You'll be all Lady Havisham by then, dude" Emily joked "I can see it now, you sat by your window all covered in cobwebs" I couldn't help but laugh.

 

"Sometimes I wonder why I even hang around with you guys."

 

***

 

There was a loud knocking at my door the next morning. "Dick Grayson?" A voice shouted, who the hell could it be? I cautiously approached the door, the voice was female, but I couldn't figure out who it was through the door… Harley Quinn? Catwoman? Have I been rumbled? I opened the door sharply in the hope of surprising whoever was behind it with my fist raised.

 

"What the hell are you doing?" Great, Melissa Daggett "Do you always assume you're in danger when someone knocks at 10am on a Saturday morning?"

 

"I uhm, had a few drinks last night" I replied, feebly.

 

"I can see that" She looked me up and down "You could have at least put some pants on"

 

Looking down to see that she was, in fact, correct, I asked:"So other than the early morning criticisms, what are you doing here?"

 

"Early? 10am is not early. I'm here because we have an assignment to work on, and I'm not going to let your sleeping habits drag down my grade" She barged past me and into my lounge, inconsiderately dropping her bag on my coffee table. The unwelcome intruder then opened the curtains to my balcony "You could have cleaned up" her eyes pointed at the glass bottles and empty pizza boxes decorating my floor.

 

"I didn't know you were coming – in fact, how do you know where I live?" I said, scowling indignantly at her.

 

"It's in the college database, obviously" Her tone was incredibly patronising. Maybe I could knock her out with a tranq-dart and go back to sleep? Probably not a good idea.

 

Melissa traversed my apartment with Flash-like speed, cleaning up my mess as she went. If I hadn't met the real Flash, I'd have probably been amazed by her superhuman ability to clean.

 

"Much better," she said "Are you just going to stand there? We've got work to do."

 

"Let me just go grab some pants," I sighed.

 

"OK, hurry up," She replied, eyes rolling.

 

I was half tempted to lock my bedroom door and climb out of the window, Melissa had been there all of five minutes, and it was already unbearable.

 

"So I was thinking" she shouted through the door "We do our piece on the Batman."

 

Not only was I living in Bruce's shadow, but I also had to write a whole paper on him – fantastic.

 

"Sure," I said.

 

"You don't sound sure," Melissa replied.

 

Time trudged on as my 'Study Buddy', and I sat on the sofa together, bickering and rolling our eyes at each other regularly.

 

"… And I say we end this first part with a note on how, while Batman should still be treated with caution, he has a much more positive effect than a negative one on Gotham" Melissa finished, after what felt like hours of talking, I couldn't have put it better myself.

 

"Sure, sounds good" I replied with zero percent enthusiasm.

 

"See" She smiled "This wasn't a completely awful experience. I think if I come over one-night next week we can have this finished"

 

"Alright, but maybe warn me next time," I said.

 

She intrusively picked up my cell phone and typed in her number "There," She said, handing it to me "I'll call you when I know which night I'm available" She got up and signalled me to walk her to the door.

 

"Cool, see you in class I guess – thanks for cleaning up," I said, gesturing to the room's overall tidiness.

 

"Later, Grayson"

 

I bolted the door the second it closed behind her, it was time to start looking into the Vertigo problem, which had suddenly become something I felt like I could conquer quite easily after overcoming an afternoon with quite possibly the most condescending person I'd met since the Riddler.

 

I ran several more scans on the compound, the evidence indisputable, it was definitely Vertigo. It did seem odd to see Vertigo in powder form; it was typically sold as a pill. So maybe whoever was carrying it was planning to manufacture the tablets in Gotham. My phone began to vibrate on the desk, it was Barb.

 

"Hey Barb, you get the sample I sent over to the cave?" I said.

 

"Yeah Dick, I'm running an analysis now – it's Vertigo alright, but it's been tampered with"

 

"Tampered with?"

 

"Yeah, it's a much higher concentration than I've ever seen it before – be careful with it."

 

"Higher concentration huh? What's that about, making it more addictive?"

 

"From what I can see it would enhance the effects, it's a hallucinogenic compound so I can imagine the trip would be quite something – I'll call you back when I've run a few tests."

 

"Thanks, Barb"

 

I needed some new equipment, my chemical scanner was clearly way behind the times. It groaned some more, so I switched it off at the mains to avoid getting electrocuted – I definitely missed the tech at the Batcave sometimes.

 

I could use some fresh air, I thought to myself. It had been nearly two nights since my last outing as Nightwing, I was certainly due a patrol.

 

The police radio was another thing in my loft that needed some modernising, it was starting to flicker and crack up. I sat and listened for some small crime I could put an end to, nothing came up that the police needed my help with… I guess I should have been happy about that. I decided to stretch my legs anyway.

 

Bleake Island was my best bet for finding a crime to stop. Over the years it had been home to various low-level criminal organisations, some of which still inhabited its rundown apartment blocks and warehouses. The Mayor was attempting to fund a massive renovation of the area, which had to be stopped due to the construction workers being harassed by members of the local mob.

 

Batman and I tried to crack down on it and get the project moving again, but like most things, in Gotham, the fear had already set in, and the plans were put away. Bruce's long-term plans for Gotham included continuing the Mayor's project with his own funds, eventually.

 

The highest point of the Bleake Island area was the half-built Stromwell Apartment Complex, the last vestige of the Mayor's renovation plan. I grappled my way to the top of the building, which was now home to squatters and homeless people. It was a sad sight to behold, but at least they had a roof over their heads for the night.

 

The night was clear of fog so I could see for miles when I got to the top of the highest beam. It wasn't long before something caught my eye, a curious figure hopping from roof to roof. From a distance, it looked like it could have been Batman or Batgirl running along the apartment blocks below me. That was until I saw the figure stumble and lose balance, very nearly falling to a swift and splattery death. I flipped on my binoculars to take a closer look. The figure was hooded and cloaked, head to toe in purple – I couldn't make out a face from the angle I was at. My new purple covered friend was trying to pull their way up on to the building. Criminal or not, I wasn't about to let this person fall to their death.

 

I zipped down to the next highest ledge I could see, it was still a fair way to go before I could get to the purple stranger. I ran as fast as I could, jumping from roof to roof as I went. The stranger had managed to just get up the ledge as I arrived. I easily cleared the gap where the purple wannabe had fumbled.

 

The stranger was quickly alerted to my presence and began to run, I could tell from her figure that she was a woman.

 

"Wait up!" I called. She wasn't listening, she carried on running and looking over her shoulder in the hope that she'd lose me.

 

"Woah, shit!" I heard her shriek as she stopped abruptly – she'd come to the end of the line, even I couldn't clear the gap to the next building without my grapple hook.

 

"Don't come any closer, I'm pretty dangerous you know!" She threatened. I looked her up and down, her costume was homemade, and she'd ripped it at the knee, most likely when she was scrambling up the wall.

 

"Sure you are, you looked terrifying as hell when you nearly fell to your death" I laughed.

 

"Screw you Nightwing," She snapped back.

 

"Hey, I'm not Bat… Wait what?" She knew who I was, this was new.

 

"Huh?"

 

"Never mind, what are you doing up here? You could get yourself killed."

 

Her face was completely covered with a plain black mask, but I could tell she was scowling at me. "I was training!"

 

"Training for what?"

 

"None of your business. Hey, look out!" She pointed behind me, I spun quickly into an attack position. There was nothing there, I can't believe I fell for that.

 

When I turned back around she had disappeared, I ran to the ledge where she'd been standing. She was hanging from a broken fire escape which she apparently thought she could escape down.

 

"Little help," She said, defeated. I hopped on to the fire escape and pulled her up with one arm. We then both climbed back on to the rooftop.

 

"So come on, who are you?" I asked her.

 

"I'm the Spoiler," She said, proudly.

 

"Spoiler?" I sniggered "I meant your real name."

 

"I'm not telling; you're not exactly going to tell me yours are you."

 

"Of course I am!"

 

"Really?"

 

"No, but seriously – you shouldn't be up here."

 

"Why? What's the difference between you and me?!"

 

"I'm wearing high-tech armour, you're in a cloth purple jumpsuit."

 

I could tell she was frowning again. My attention was pulled away from her as my scanner sprung to life with an alert. A blip appeared on the small screen on my wrist – my biker friend was back, and he was close.

 

"What was that?" Spoiler asked.

 

"None of your business, Spoily," I turned and hopped on to the building ledge, "I'll be back, don't go anywhere."

 

"Yeah, like I'm gonna just stick around," I imagined her rolling her eyes under the mask, but I didn't have time to wait around.

 

"Look, I don't wanna see you up here again, kid," I lectured her, "You could hurt yourself."

 

"Kid? Screw you, asshole," She snarled.

 

"Charming!" I replied, giving her a mock salute as I jumped from the roof.

 

It didn't take long for me to catch up to my biker friend again, this time he wasn't riding alone. He and a pair of his fellow 'Brothers of Satan' were riding in a group of three - making their way to the bar near Miller Harbour where Barb and I had met them in the first place.

 

I perched myself on a rooftop across the way from the 'Panhead' bar. My bikers, the Brothers of Satan, were wearing Denim cuts as opposed to leather, which made them easier to spot in a crowd. Unfortunately for me, there was quite a crowd, it must have been some kind of biker happy hour. It looked like I was playing the waiting game – even I couldn't confidently take down thirty angry bikers by myself.

 

***

 

I'd been sat for over an hour before I got my cue. I'd been hoping to get my target as he left on his own, but this was even better. I could hear shouting and smashing glass – a fight had broken out, and bikers were spilling on to the street. Luckily for me, my biker was among them.

 

I slid down the side of the building and into the alley below, there wasn't much need for stealth now, I could have shouted at the top of my voice, and they wouldn't have been any the wiser. I unholstered my Escrima Sticks and got to work.

 

The first biker to spot me shouted: "Hey, look it's Nightwing!" He knew my name; I was flattered as my baton hit him square in the jaw and cleanly knocked him out. A roundhouse kick dispatched his nearest associate. I made my way through the crowd at walking pace, only fighting the bikers that noticed me – which was a surprisingly small amount of them.

 

My target was in sight, but before I could get to him, he spotted me.

 

"Shit, shit it's him!" He shouted – punching an opposing biker in the face as he did. He ran back into the bar, I had to get on him quick before he got to a vehicle.

 

I dashed through the crowd to the bar entrance, a large biker with a long wiry black beard swung at me with a lead pipe. Managing to duck just in the nick of time I retorted: "Nice try!" Before knocking him out with a lightning-fast uppercut to the chin.

 

BANG! BANG! BANG! Bullets crashed through the bar door, one shot hitting a member of the crowd on his arm. The rabble dispersed in a mad frenzy to find their respective bikes. I burst through the bar window and took cover behind a pool table. My biker and his friends were waiting for me, armed to the teeth. The air filled with the sound of gunshots, the pool table wasn't going to last long as cover.

 

"Come on guys, I just came here for a quiet drink!" I shouted as I threw down a smoke pellet and leapt toward the bar. Argh, I felt a bullet graze the back of my right calf, the old suit wasn't going to last much longer if I kept letting stuff like that happen.

 

I counted that each goon had no more than four shots left before he'd have to reload. With that in mind, I threw a Batarang at the nearest light switch, and the room went dark. With a hard kick at the shelf behind the bar, bottles of liquor began to fall and smash – in a panic the bikers opened fire and used the last of their bullets.

 

I let out a laugh as I jumped up over the bar, landing a punch on the first goon's nose which sent him hurtling into a table. The second pulled a knife and charged at me, "You ain't getting out of here alive, boy!" in ducking motion I flipped him over my shoulder and on to the bar, twisting his hand around as he landed to disarm him.

 

"You were saying?" I laughed, it was just me and my target.

 

"Don't come any closer, I'm warning you!" He threatened reaching for a bottle.

 

"Really? Your buddy was way bigger than you, you might as well just give up" He wasn't going to listen, they rarely did, but before he had time to lunge I kicked him in his gut and bowled him over with an uppercut.

 

***

 

The biker's eyes opened slowly "Wakey, wakey!" I smiled. It took him a few seconds to realise he was hanging upside down from the top of the unfinished Stromwell Building.

 

"Oh god, help! Somebody help!" He began to scream, swinging back and forth "Shit, I don't wanna die man!"

 

"You won't die, as long as you answer a few questions for me" I responded coldly, trying my best not to smirk at his shift in attitude.

 

"Anything, god what do you wanna know!" He screeched.

 

"Start with your name."

 

"Clancy, Clancy Wolfman!"

 

"Good, alright Clancy – why are you helping bring Vertigo into my city?!"

 

"It was just a job! I bumped into some suits down at the harbour, and they offered me and the boys cash to move some packages from point A to point B."

 

"Suits? Who were they?"

 

"Business-types I don't know! They just flashed some cash, I didn't need details after that."

 

"Mr Freeze is hardly small time like yourself, no offence, so why'd they need you to move the stuff."

 

"That's what I said!" Clancy concurred, "They paid me big bucks too."

 

"They can't be starting a massive operation on such small amounts, it's gotta be something else" I pondered out loud. Turning back to Clancy I continued: "Why did your guy at the bar think you were running a bigger ring?"

 

"You know what bar staff are like, man, he musta heard half a story when I was talkin' to my crew and filled in the blanks with his imagination."

 

"Sounds plausible," I said with a nod.

 

"So whatd'ya say you let me go?" Clancy laughed nervously.

 

I laughed along with him, "Sure, buddy!" I smiled, and let go of the rope I was holding him with.

 

"Shiiiiiiiit!" He screamed as he fell. I caught the rope and pulled him back up.

 

"Clancy, Clancy, Clancy – you're trying my patience, I need some leads."

 

"OK! OK! I know that the stuff comes from Star City."

 

"Not good enough, Clancy! My arm is getting pretty tired" I started to loosen the rope and gave out a fake yawn.

 

"Wait! OK, there was something else – one of the guys I met, he was some sorta doctor. I didn't see his face, he had one o' those surgical masks on, but he told me that I wasn't allowed to sell any of the stuff under any circumstance. And that if I did he'd know, and he'd kill me."

 

"And did you sell any?"

 

"Yeah, of course, I did, that Vertigo stuff is hot shit! What's one little bag out of twenty?"

 

"To who?"

 

"I dunno, one of the guys at the bar – I swear that's all I know! You caught me on my way to my first drop off and they ain't been in contact since."

 

"Thanks, Clancy, I'll be seeing ya!" I punched him and knocked him out cold again. Clancy was going to wake up the next morning in a nice cosy dumpster with one hell of a headache.

 

The Spoiler was gone when I got back to the rooftop, not surprising since it was nearly dawn. My amateur free-running friend had left me a nice clue though. When she fumbled her landing over the alleyway, she must have grazed her knee on the wall. I had to lean over to get a swab, but I managed to find a smear of blood. If Spoiler were in the criminal database, I would be able to find her. And if not I could at least keep her on file.

 

***

 

It had been a while since I used the Chemical Analysis Machine to find DNA, the crappy old machine probably wasn't going to come up with a match. Even so, I was going to give it a shot.

 

When I got to the loft, I cleaned my bullet-wound and patched my leg up with a bandage, lucky it was just a graze, or I could have been out of action for a while.

 

I switched my creaky machine back on at the mains – it was beeping and groaning more than ever this time.

 

First things first I had to clean the Vertigo out of the machine. To my surprise, the device fizzled and spat out some sparks. I jumped back instinctively before the machine sparked again – this time the flashes hit the granules of Vertigo that were on the table.

 

The granules ignited with a bright flare, the fumes knocking me on to my back. I tried to kick the table over and put out the fire, but the room had already filled with a cloud of smog. I couldn't help but breath it in.

 

Feeling suddenly dizzy, I attempted to stand up. All I could see was a thick grey mist "Dick? Dick are you alright?" A familiar voice called through the smog, it was echoing strangely in my ears. Who could be up here? "Dick, here let me help you" A hand stretched out to help me up, I took it and got to my feet. The air cleared in a circle almost instantly around the figure who came into view: "Hello, brother."

 

I felt a chill in my bones which physically pushed me backwards, what I was seeing, it wasn't possible...

 

"Jason?! But… You're dead!"


	3. Live Like You Were Dying

When somebody you love dies, it leaves a scar. The pain dulls but it never fully heals. I had my fair share of scars; my parents, my Aunt Harriet… But the scar that Jason Todd had left behind was by far the biggest, and the most painful. Seeing him again as clear as the reflection in Alfred's immaculate silverware, it felt like that scar had been ripped right open.

 

Jason was murdered over a year and a half ago. He'd lived with us for quite a while after his father went to prison and he ended up on the street. Jason only took up the mantle of Robin when I left to join the Titans and became Nightwing. A kid from the wrong side of the tracks with an aggressive temperament, he never quite fit the role - but Bruce was determined to turn him around. And to an extent so was I. I always felt like Bruce saw him more as Robin, and tried to mentor him, whereas I was more interested in trying to be a brother to Jason.

 

Playing to his aggression and impulsive nature, once the Joker had discovered Jason's identity, he kidnapped and killed his father. Luring Jason to a warehouse on the outskirts of Gotham with the promise of revenge. By the time Bruce and I got there Jason was already dead, he'd been beaten to death with a crowbar. The Joker and Harley Quinn were still there, laughing hysterically.

 

Knowing all this, I was struggling to see how it was possible that Jason was standing in front of me now, in my very own loft?

 

"What's the matter Dick, aren't you happy to see me?" Jason asked. He was wearing his Robin costume, covered in blood, just like the last time I saw him – when Bruce and I found his body.

 

"Can't you face me, Dick? Can't you face the brother you failed to protect? The brother who counted on you? The brother you let die?!" His voice was strangely magnified, ringing in my ears. He was right, I should have saved him, I should have known he was going after the Joker. I'd done the same thing when I was younger. Bruce stopped me from going after Tony Zucco, the man who killed my parents, why couldn't I do the same for Jason?

 

This had to be some kind of nightmare, some kind of terrifying dream that I was about to wake up from. I hit myself across the face to try and wake up. I closed my eyes and wished him away.

 

"Still here, Dick, still here!" He shouted maniacally, this wasn't the Jason I remembered… He was warped and deranged as if he'd been left in the warehouse all that time with no one to come and help him.

 

"No, you're not real, you can't be here!" I shouted, desperately trying to make my words come true.

 

A chilling laugh filled my ears. Jason being there seemed to be the least of my worries, the voice on the other end of that laugh was one I'd not heard in a long time – an old enemy who I'd also assumed was dead.

 

"We're all here, Dicky!" It was the Joker, the clown prince of crime, the man who murdered my friend and still haunted my every nightmare. The Joker's identity was a complete mystery to me, and to Batman. All we knew for sure was that he'd fallen into a vat of chemicals which bleached his skin and made his hair green. With the added complication that it had driven him insane. He was in front of me now, bold as brass in his signature purple suit.

 

The Joker strolled merrily towards Jason, crowbar in hand. A spring in his step as he danced around Jason, taunting him with the crowbar.

 

"Save me, Dick!" Jason screamed, "You have to help me."

 

The Joker laughed hysterically and struck Jason across the face, the sound rung through my entire body, quaking painfully in my skull.

 

"No!" I shouted as I weakly got up to charge at him. The earth-shattering sound of a snapping tightrope filled my ears as a baseball bat appeared as if from nowhere and struck me in the stomach, causing me to crumple to my knees. I felt it, but it didn't hurt, it was more like a muscle spasm. Before I knew what was happening, I was tied up. A woman's soft lips began caressing my neck.

 

"We're only here to watch, puddin'" It was Harley Quinn, the Joker's favourite toy. Her face was bleach-white like the Joker's, but she'd just used makeup. Her hair was in blonde pigtails with blue dip dye on the left tail, and pink on the rightShe was wearing what she'd been wearing that night: tight blue shorts, a torn t-shirt, red leather jacket, and fishnet stockings with and lace-up boots which were now pressing on my ankle. She'd once been a doctor at Arkham Asylum, the Joker had gotten into her head and driven her mad, moulding her into his faithful sidekick "Go on Mr J! Give him what for!" She cheered.

 

"With pleasure my dear," The clown laughed, striking Jason again.

 

"Why won't you help me!? Dick please!" Jason screamed.

 

"Jason! Hold on!" I called to him. I couldn't move.

 

"Ah Ah Ahhh, no talkin' puddin' Mr J is tryin' to work" Harley commanded as she straddled across my lap and forced a cloth into my mouth. I tried to shout, but all I could do was watch as the Joker beat Jason to death right before my eyes his screams had dulled with every strike until he was almost entirely silent, he and Harley laughing blood spattered from Jason and on to my face. My skin was crawling as Harley began kissing my neck and running her fingers through my hair.

 

With one final strike to his head, Jason collapsed and began to bleed out on the floor. I wanted to scream. Harley was holding my eyes open so that I couldn't look away.

 

"This is all your fault, brother, all your fault" Jason winced as he let out his last breath.

 

Harley licked my face before jumping to her feet, I felt like I was going to puke. She skipped over to his lifeless body. "Great job Mr J!" She grinned – wiping the blood on Jason's face into a smile.

 

"Thank you, my dear, he was due a makeover!" the Joker cackled "Now for Robin Senior to join Robin junior in Bat Heaven!"

 

He walked towards me with the crowbar and Harley with her bat. There was nothing I could do. This was it. They swung their weapons at me, and I closed my eyes… I heard the dying shrieks of my mother and father and then… Everything went black.

 

***

 

A fire erupted in the pit on my stomach, causing me to wretch awake. A hot shiver forced its way up my body, emerging as vomit. My head clearing, I realised I was huddled uncomfortably in a confined space. At first, when I opened my eyes I couldn't see a thing, it was dark wherever I was.

 

I'd expected to see the Joker staring down at me, but as my eyes adjusted, Another few seconds passed, and I became aware that I was at the foot of the staircase leading to my loft. I was pressed up against the back of my secret door. Putting a hand down to steady myself, I sharply retracted it, I'd put it in the puddle of vomit that was splattered next to me.

 

Doing this brought to my attention the fact that my hands weren't tied at all and I hadn't got a scratch on me, aside from the bullet graze on my leg and a bruise on my head, presumably from hitting the door on my tumble down the stairs. My cell phone was all of a sudden vibrating underneath me; I'd set myself an alarm – which meant it was Sunday morning already.

 

Cautiously and with great effort, I dragged myself up the stairs on my hands and knees. I still wasn't sure what had happened to me, but I wasn't taking the chance of being caught off guard if this was just another one of the Joker's tricks. Pausing for a second to clutch my stomach, I took a deep breath.

 

From the look of the loft when I reached the top of the stairs, a task I never thought I'd consider being a struggle, everything that I saw after the Vertigo caught fire was an illusion.

 

Of course, the memory snapped back into my brain, Barbara had told me that Vertigo was a hallucinogen and that the batch had been tampered with. What I had experienced were the effects of this new super-powered Vertigo.

 

I threw myself into the computer chair and used it to roll over to my makeshift medical table. The first thing I grabbed was the small shaving mirror I used to see hard to reach places on my body when I needed to check them or stitch them up. My face was grey and mottled, covered in sweat.

 

Unfortunately, or perhaps not depending on how you looked at it, my Chemical Scanner was ruined, and I'd lost my blood sample from Spoiler. Covering my mouth with a rag, I rolled over to the broken device on my chair and uncoupled it from the power supply. It seemed the automatic air conditioning unit had dispersed any of the harmful fumes that might have been left over - at least that still worked.

 

The central computer was built into the chimney breast and would be hidden behind the brickwork in the event of a break-in as an extra layer of security. It emerged and flashed to life as I scanned my eyes against a panel on one of the bricks. This was not a rickety old machine, Barbara had made sure this at least was state of the art. I didn't have the same level of access as the computer at the cave, but it meant I could function pretty well without the aid of Batman.

 

"Welcome, Master Grayson," The computer said.

 

"Computer, bring up loft security footage for the last 24 hours," I commanded.

 

Almost instantly, a video feed appeared on the screen. I stood up and leaned toward the screen, sliding the time scrubber along until I saw myself dropping in through the roof entrance. I watched myself strip from my costume, change and disappear down the stairs. Once I'd returned, the mini-explosion took place, and I saw myself splayed out on the floor. What happened next was surreal. I watched myself shouting at nothing and nobody, clearly in distress. I fell backwards as if something had hit me, but there was nothing at all to see. It was embarrassing to watch as I finally tumbled down the stairs.

 

I highlighted the time frame I'd just watched on the screen and said: "Computer, upload this to the Batcomputer, FAO Batgirl."

 

I hated to say it, but this Vertigo situation was shaping up to be a lot worse than I'd first thought, I couldn't let stuff go into mass production and get out on the street. I fought the idea for a few moments as if there was some kind of alternative, but I knew it was time to swallow my pride and go to Wayne Manor.

 


	4. Face To Face

After an hour or so of throwing up, I managed to get some sleep and pull myself around before making the journey to the Wayne Manor.

 

The Manor hadn't changed one bit, I'm not sure why I'd expected it to as I hadn't been gone all that long. I suppose the nature of my departure had just made it feel like a long time. Bruce and I had initially fallen out over my lack of independence, I had become frustrated about living in his shadow and wanted to blaze my own trail. Which led me to take on the leadership of the Titans. He began training Jason just before I left. I returned for a while and aided in Jason's training, but Bruce was acting like I needed training too and that I was still somehow his sidekick. Jason's death was the final straw, and the night it happened was the night I left.

 

Bruce and I hadn't said a word to one another in months. Alfred had tried his best to get us to talk to each other, but the timing just wasn't right. I spent a lot of time being angry, about Bruce holding me back, about losing Barbara, and about losing Jason. But I had to put that aside because I needed Bruce's help, and I wasn't about to risk the people of Gotham by working on this alone.

 

I walked my motorcycle up the driveway as I had a thousand times before, it was all flooding back to the front of my mind, the memories of my childhood, the memories of being Robin.

 

The colossal oak front doors of the Manor were menacing, the same as they had been when Bruce first brought me there after my parents were murdered. I hesitated for a second before ringing the doorbell, the thought of seeing Bruce again became more daunting with every step I made. The door eventually creaked open "Young Master Grayson!" Alfred said, excitedly.

 

"Hey Alfred" I replied with a smile, it was nice to see the old butler face to face again. We'd been talking via email and on the phone frequently but it wasn't the same as being in his presence. Alfred exuded a warmth which had an unparalleled ability to make me feel at ease.

 

"It's great to see you Master Grayson" We shook hands very formally and Alfred led me into the entrance hall.

 

Seeing all of the Wayne family paintings and the old artefacts that Bruce and his father had collected over the years felt like the first time. At the top of the stairs was the portrait of Thomas and Martha Wayne, and to the right, there was a new painting – one I had no idea was ever finished. Bruce sat centre-stage with Ace the dog at his feet, I was stood to the left and Jason to the right. It hit me like a Joker-sized mallet to the gut, I should never have waited this long to come back.

 

"Master Bruce," Alfred called loudly up the stairs "We have company."

 

A shadow crawled across the wall on the first-floor landing, the moment of truth. Emerging from the tip of the long shadow, there he was, dark hair, formidable stance, carrying shoulders that could only be out-squared by the squareness of his jaw. It seemed as though he'd gotten even more muscular, his barrel chest had never looked more intimidating.

 

Bruce slowly walked down the stairs, his face as stern as ever. Every step echoed loudly with the rising tension. And then, we were face to face. His eyes met mine and then started to analyse me. I did the same. We were weighing each other up, I wasn't sure whether he was going to speak to me or hit me.

 

After nearly a minute of silence, he took a deep breath and finally said "Hi."

 

"Uhm, hey" I replied, that was easy. All of the tension seemed to leave my body with the words.

 

"How can I help you, Dick?" Bruce asked.

 

"Vertigo," I began "The designer drug from Star City, is in Gotham."

 

"I know."

 

"This stuff is different though, it's been tampered with."

 

"I know" he repeated.

 

"Yeah, I get it – you know because Barb told you. But there was an accident with my equipment, and I was hit with a dose myself," I explained.

 

Bruce looked closer into my eyes with concern and said: "We best get you to the cave and make sure it's out of your system" He gestured toward the drawing room where the entrance to the cave was hidden. We started walking side-by-side, closely followed by Alfred.

 

"What did you experience, did it make you hallucinate?" Bruce asked.

 

"Yeah. But it wasn't your run of the mill vision. I saw Jason."

 

Bruce stopped walking and turned to me: "What?"

 

"I saw him. Not just images of him, but an actual physical being right there in front of me. The Joker and Harley Quinn appeared too. Jason was... being murdered, and I couldn't stop it…" He could tell I wasn't lying'; I could see it in his eyes.

 

Bruce stroked his chin, "It sounds like the compound amplified your fears and projected them. What else did you feel?"

 

We began walking again, "Harley bound me, and I couldn't move, I tried, but the vision genuinely had me trapped."

 

"That's not abnormal with these kinds of compounds, it must have tricked your brain into believing the phantoms were real."

 

"Abnormal is precisely the word I'd use," I said

 

"Whatever the word is, it's serious," Bruce said, turning to face the Grand Piano in the drawing room. He played a few aggressively out of tune notes which preceded a clunking sound and the rattling of old chains. Alfred's China cabinet roared as it split down the middle and swung open like doors, revealing an ancient elevator which looked a lot like a shark cage.

 

"You ever gonna get around to replacing that old elevator?" I asked with a smirk.

 

"If it ain't broke..." Bruce said, walking towards the elevator and opening it, gesturing me inside.

 

"Thanks," I said.

 

Alfred joined us and the next thing I knew the secret doors had swung closed, and we were moving down into the ground. The clunking chains interrupted the slumber of the many bats lining the cave wall, causing them to fly around us frantically. I enjoyed the theatricality of it all, seeing it from an outsider's perspective would have been quite something.

 

We'd been in the Batcave for about an hour before Barbara arrived with Leslie Thompkins. Leslie was close friends with Bruce's parents, she served as a godparent for Bruce when he was growing up, she'd been our personal doctor for as long as I could remember. Being something of a pacifist, Leslie openly disapproved of our vigilantism, thinking that she'd failed Bruce as a role model when he was growing up and felt responsible for him becoming Batman. Disapproving or not, she'd never let us down, and I trusted her with my life.

 

Barbara walked over and rubbed me on the shoulder before pulling up a chair to the Batcomputer. Leslie greeted Bruce and kissed him on the cheek, "I wish you'd call with something that wasn't a medical emergency once in a while."

 

"You know you're always welcome Leslie," Bruce insisted.

 

"I know, I have tea with Alfred all the time, it's just that you're never here," She said, raising an eyebrow at him.

 

Bruce laughed and turned to Alfred who nodded.

 

"Where's my patient then?" Leslie continued.

 

"Over there," Bruce said, pointing to where I was sitting, twiddling my thumbs.

 

She approached me, a beaming smile on her face, "Well, Dick what have you gotten into this time?" She asked with a sympathetic smile.

 

"What can I say, I finally succumbed to all the peer pressure and tried one of the 'cool kid' drugs" I joked as she examined my face and jotted down some notes.

 

"From what I hear it was a pretty strong hallucinogenic compound," Leslie said, not reacting to the joke at all.

 

"You could say that, yeah," I said, flinching as she shone a light right into my eye.

 

"I'm going to take a blood sample and do a few tests, but it does look like the worst is over."

 

"Thanks, Leslie," I smiled.

 

Leslie jabbed my arm with a needle and took a small vial of blood over to the Batcave lab where Barbara was now setting up the equipment. Leaving Bruce and me alone.

 

"So… I like what you've done with the place," That was my icebreaker. Bruce gave me a sly look as if he appreciated the joke but didn't want to admit it.

 

"I heard about your encounter with Freeze," He finally said.

 

"Yeah?" I replied, curious as to whether he was taking a genuine interest in my career or just making small talk.

 

"Yeah, I'm impressed you managed to take him down so easily." He said, sincerely.

 

"Was that a… Compliment? My god, what next, a hug?" I said, laughing a little.

 

"Don't push it."

 

"New girlfriend turned you all soft? I did hear you were dating a Kardashian," I said, goading him as I often used to.

 

"That was just a vicious rumour."

 

"I'll bet"

 

Barbara walked back over to where Bruce and I were talking and put a hand softly on my shoulder again "Nice to see you boys getting along, Alfred wants to know if you're staying for dinner."

 

I looked at Bruce, and he looked at me. He nodded indicating his approval.

 

"Sure Barb, sounds good!" I responded.

 

"Well that's settled then, he's making your favourite anyway," She smiled.

 

"Alfred is making pizza?" I quizzed.

 

"Alright, your second favourite," Barbara sighed.

 

Alfred's Chicken Parm elicited the kind of response you only see in movies when someone eats something truly delicious. A chorus of "Mmms" rang around the table, causing Alfred, who had insisted on standing by the door instead of joining us, to smile pridefully.

 

Barbara had spent the first part of the meal looking between myself and Bruce constantly and not-so-subtly smiling to herself. I couldn't blame her, it did feel good to be sat there again, eating Alfred's cooking and talking like the old days.

 

"So, Dick, what have you been up to lately?" Leslie asked, taking a large glug of what must have been her third glass of red wine, "Alfred tells me you've not been to visit in a while."

 

I awkwardly met Bruce's eye for a second before turning to answer Leslie, "I've been pretty busy with my studies."

 

"Oh, of course, you're a college boy now!" She exclaimed, beaming with pride, "I'm so glad all this didn't keep you from getting an education."

 

Bruce coughed as Leslie said 'all this', but seemed to choose not to respond.

 

"What did you choose to study?" Leslie asked.

 

"Criminal Psychology," I said, scooping up another mouthful of chicken.

 

"Very appropriate, I'll bet you've got quite a head start on the other students," She said with a smile.

 

Barbara sniggered, prompting me to respond with a scowl before answering: "I thought so, but no, it's a little harder than I was expecting."

 

"Well, I hope you're not neglecting your studies too much, going out beating criminals to a pulp and so on. Who's your professor?"

 

"His name is Crane," I said, barely hiding my distaste of him.

 

"Jonathan Crane?" She replied.

 

"Yeah, you know him?"

 

"Funnily enough I met him not too long ago, I wasn't aware he'd gone back into teaching," Leslie explained, "He was working at Arkham Asylum, I'd been called in to consult on the health of some of the inmates. He's quite an odd fellow, isn't he?"

 

"Odd isn't the word I'd use," I thought out loud, "I've no idea why someone like him would ever want to teach."

 

"He's not that bad," Barbara interjected.

 

"How would you know?" I asked.

 

"I took a few taster classes with him last semester, he was always nice to me," She explained, "Maybe you're rubbing him the wrong way? You have been known to do that from time to time."

 

"I'm not rubbing him any kind of way, he's just an ass."

 

"If you say so," Barb said, looking upward and taking a sip of water.

 

"Anything interesting coming up, Bruce?" Leslie asked, trying to bring Bruce into the conversation, he'd been mostly silent since we'd sat down to eat.

 

"Nothing in particular," Bruce replied with a smile.

 

"What about the Casino opening?" Barbara interjected.

 

"Oh, that sounds interesting," Leslie said, pouring herself another glass of red wine, "They're reopening the Gotham Casino?"

 

"That's right," Bruce said.

 

"They're hosting a gala, there's going to be an auction and everything," Barbara said, hardly containing her excitement, "Hey, Dick, why don't you join us?"

 

"Oh, no," I said, mumbling, "It's not my scene."

 

"Don't be stupid, I'm going with my dad so you can be Bruce's plus one," Barb said, grinning and looking hopefully between Bruce and me.

 

We looked at one another, and then back to Barb. Bruce just nodded in agreement.

 

"Fine," I said, she wasn't going to take no for an answer.

 

Feeling quite lethargic, I lazily said goodbye to Leslie and Barbara, who left shortly after dinner. Due to Leslie drinking half the wine in the Manor, Barbara practically had to carry her to the car and lay her on the back seat.

 

"Are you quite sure you won't stay the night, Master Grayson?" Alfred asked me, once Barbara had made it safely off the property.

 

"I'm sure Alfred, I've got to get home," I said, he nodded and turned to leave the room, "It was good seeing you again."

 

"And you, Master Grayson," He replied, turning back around "Let's not wait so long to see one another again, and be careful out there won't you."

 

I nodded and smiled.

 

Once Alfred had left, Bruce and I were alone in the dining room. The brooding billionaire turned to me, a stern look creeping across his face, he was thinking of how to say something.

 

"I know why you left," He began, taking me by surprise, "And I know that my telling you what to do played a big part in your decision."

 

"Bruce, it's OK," I responded, but he raised his hand to stop me continuing.

 

"But I need to ask you a favour," He continued.

 

"Go on..."

 

"I need you to take it easy, just for a week."

 

"Leslie gave me the all clear..."

 

"Yes, but I talked to her afterwards, and we agreed that you should take a week off and monitor your vitals. We don't yet know if this drug has any long-term effects."

 

I thought for a second, this was undoubtedly reminding me of all the times he'd treated me like a kid, and I'd only been back at the Manor for a few hours. But I had to surrender to the fact that he was right.

 

"Fine," I said finally, nodding.

 

"Thank you, Dick," Bruce said, getting to his feet "Alfred was right, you really are welcome to stay the night."

 

I smiled and shook my head, "I might as well start my week off at home."

 

"This is still your home, whenever you want it to be."

 

"I know, thanks, Bruce."

 

Alfred and Bruce stood on the doorstep and watched me leave the grounds. Slowly pushing my motorcycle back down the long driveway to the main gate, I felt like I'd repaired an old wound, it felt good.


	5. Another Brick In The Wall

As Bruce had put me under orders to take a week off, it was time to focus on school. Once I'd left the Manor, Barbara sent me a message in which promised to completely renovate my loft if I could stay away from my costume for an entire week, which seemed like a pretty fair deal to me. She must have assumed that when Bruce approached me with the idea that I'd say no.

 

As it happened I had no classes on the Monday of that week and, having nothing better to do, I was going to do some cleaning and catch up on some more of the sleep I kept missing out on.

 

The latter part seemed like the better idea, so when my alarm clock began to buzz at 7am on Monday, I decided to snooze it for a few hours.

 

A thud at my door abruptly woke me from my well-earned slumber. What the hell could it be this time? The knocking was continuous "Alright, I'm coming" I snarled at the door, trying to pull on some clothes. The hammering continued, so I threw my pants to one side and charged to answer it "I'm coming!"

 

I pulled the door open violently and behind it, yet again, was Melissa Daggett. She stood looking me up and down for a second with her arms folded, appearing to roll her eyes several times before speaking: "You should really get checked for Narcolepsy you know, it's a pretty serious problem," she said in her most patronising tone.

 

"I thought you were going to call?" I yawned.

 

"I did… Thirteen times," She said, walking past me again and dropped her bags as she had on her previous visit.

 

"Why does nobody ever wait to be invited in," I said to myself.

 

"Well I'll say this for you, it's not quite as messy as last time – although you still need to work on the 'putting pants on before answering doors' thing," Melissa said, gesturing around to the unusual tidiness of the apartment.

 

"In my defence, you wouldn't stop knocking" I closed the door and strolled over to the sofa, my cell phone was on the coffee table, she wasn't lying '13 missed calls' was right there on the screen along with a pretty funny text from Nate which it wasn't appropriate to repeat in front of Melissa and a separate text from Emily regarding a party that night. Normally I'd have said no, but as I wasn't set to be busy at night for another week I replied 'sure'.

 

"I figured since we didn't have class today, it was the perfect time to study," Melissa explained as if that justified her ruining my morning.

 

"Trust you to put a downer on a perfectly good day off," I sighed.

 

"Oh, I'm sorry that some of us don't want to spend all of our days and nights tucked up in bed," Melissa said.

 

"Apology accepted, now can we get on with this so I can go back to sleep?"

 

"You're unbelievable."

 

"I know" I smirked.

 

The mood settled quickly as we got to work, discussing her various theories in painstaking detail. Next time I wanted to nap all afternoon, I'd have to invite her over to talk me to sleep. At least that's how I felt at first, but after a while, she became a little less annoying.

 

"… So we conclude that Batman is a force for good, but needs to be regulated by the proper authorities" Melissa insisted when we finally came to the end of the essay.

 

"You mean your conclusion," I replied, without thinking.

 

"What do you think it's OK that he goes around breaking bones and terrorising criminals?" She asked, sharply.

 

"Well yeah, assuming they're bad people – you can't deny that he gets results," I said, defensively.

 

"And what happens when he gets it wrong?" She asked, tilting her head slightly and looking at me as if she was genuinely interested in my opinion.

 

"He doesn't," I said, shrugging.

 

"And how do you know that?" she scowled.

 

"I uhm, I guess I don't."

 

"Exactly," She said, smugly.

 

I rolled my eyes at her, "Does this mean it's over? Is the nightmare finally over?"

 

"Very funny," She said, "You know, your charm will only get you so far in life Grayson, you shouldn't see studying as such an ordeal."

 

"You're starting to sound like a motivational speaker, nice to know you think I'm charming though."

 

She smiled and threw a screwed up ball of paper at me "Shut up, you know it wasn't that bad."

 

"You're alright I guess… Does this mean you might talk to me in class tomorrow?"

 

"Maybe, but I wouldn't want to interrupt one of your classroom naps. I know they're very important to you."

 

"Oh ha ha, come on I'll walk you to your cab."

 

"Wow, it's like you're a whole new man."

 

***

 

I thought a Monday night was an odd night for a party. But fraternities rarely followed the rules of normal society, then again who was I to talk? It seemed Monday was the perfect time for a birthday celebration, so naturally half of the student body was down there – including myself, which was quite a novelty to Emily.

 

We'd met up at my apartment and walked to the party together. The event was in full swing by the time we arrived. Strobe lights could be seen flashing out of the windows, a large gathering of people was congregating on the front lawn, while a member of the College Basketball Team ran past us and threw up in the bushes.

 

"Nice," I said sarcastically.

 

"So this is a party, it's where people drink and socialise" Emily explained sarcastically as we walked toward the front door.

 

"You're hilarious Em, truly" I replied.

 

"Cheer up dude," She laughed, gesturing me inside, "Nate said he'd meet us here."

 

We walked into the bustling frat house, it really wasn't my scene but 'when in Rome'. Nate was in the kitchen congratulating what I could only assume from the sashes and badges, was the birthday boy. "Hey, Dick!" He called to me "This is my old buddy Tom – come and say hi."

 

"Hey Tom, Dick Grayson – good to meet you," I said politely.

 

"Good to meet ya, bro, I swear I seen you on TV, aren't you Bruce Wayne's kid or something?" Todd asked, somewhat intrusively.

 

"Or something," I replied with a weak smile.

 

"Cool man, well here," He handed me a beer, "Enjoy the party."

 

"Thanks," I said, "Happy Birthday."

 

Emily hugged Nathan and grabbed herself a beer. "Hey dude, you feeling better?" She asked him, I wasn't sure what she was referring to.

 

"Yeah I'm good now Em," Nate replied.

 

"What happened, everything OK with work?" I asked him, I hadn't been allowed near my police radio.

 

"I saw my first body today; it shook me up a little, Bro," Nate answered with an unfamiliar quiver in his voice.

 

"Damn, was it bad?" I immediately responded, not thinking.

 

"Dude, what kind of question is that?!" Emily snapped, I probably should have been a little more tactful.

 

"Sorry, I was just curious that's all," I replied with the first thing that came to my head.

 

"Morbid curiosity if you ask me, dude," Emily scowled.

 

"No it's fine, it was pretty messed up. The guy had been drugged – he was all seized up," He said, pausing.

 

"Seized up?" I asked, willing him to continue.

 

"He had this... This look on his face... It was really messed up, it was like he'd been scared to death or something, he was like, mid-scream" Nate replied.

 

"Good god, that's awful," I said, pausing for dramatic effect before asking: "Any leads?" Hoping that he'd tell me Batman was on the case.

 

"Not one, he was just some biker guy," Nate explained, "He had a few priors, but nothing major."

 

"A biker? Like from a gang?" I asked. I had a bad feeling about this.

 

"Yeah, something real cliché like Sons of Satan or something."

 

"The Brothers of Satan?" I said, already knowing the answer.

 

"Yeah, that's the one, you know 'em?" Nate asked curiously raising an eyebrow.

 

"No," I said sharply, "Well, I think I've seen them around."

 

"Hmm," Nate said, eyeing me suspiciously now,

 

"Uhm, where's the bathroom in this place?" I asked abruptly.

 

"Not sure man, think it's on the first floor," Nate said, pointing to the stairs.

 

"Don't go anywhere I'll be right back."

 

I ran into the main entranceway of the house and pushed my way past a crowd to get up the stairs. The bathroom was occupied, but I didn't really need it anyway, so I locked myself in the nearest empty bedroom and dialled Bruce's emergency number.

 

"Nightwing, what is it? You're supposed to be resting" He answered, barely allowing the phone to ring.

 

"I know, I just wanted to make sure you had all the info you needed – I interrogated a biker the other night named Clancy Wolfman…" I explained.

 

"The same one the GCPD found dead this morning?" He knew, of course, he knew.

 

"It has to be, he was working for the guys that are bringing in the Vertigo from Star City – They must have seen me take him."

 

"Alright, thanks for the lead – I'll be in touch," Bruce said, "Rest up."

 

"Wait, there's one more thing," I added frantically, "Keep an eye out for a girl dressed in purple, calls herself Spoiler, I bumped into her that night, she's some kind of wannabe vigilante - I'd hate for her to get caught up in this."

 

"Will do," He replied, the line immediately went dead after that.

 

Feeling slightly more at ease, I forced my way back to the kitchen through the hordes of drunken partygoers and other birthday commotions. Emily was still there waiting for me, but Nate was nowhere to be seen.

 

"That was quick," Emily said, a suspicious look in her eye "How was your day off anyway?"

 

"Wasn't much of a day off, Melissa turned up to finish our paper" I replied.

 

"Brutal dude, you guys actually manage to get it done?"

 

"Yeah, it wasn't so bad."

 

"I thought that Melissa was a bit of a pain?"

 

"She's not all bad – could be worse, I could have your partner" I smiled as we both looked over to the upside down football player, Tyreese Anderson, doing a keg-stand with his shirt off "He looks like a real scholar."

 

"Don't even go there," Emily snarled "That dipshit has been ignoring my calls for days, we're definitely not getting that assignment finished by tomorrow. I mean, look at him, dude," She pointed back as Tyreese cheered with beer and foam running down his face, "I've literally no idea what business he has in a Criminal Psychology classroom."

 

"I think you like him," I teased in a mock-girly voice.

 

"I'd rather go on a date with Crane than with him," Emily said defiantly.

 

"At least it would be a date," I said, knowing how she'd respond.

 

"What's that supposed to mean?" She snarled through bared teeth.

 

"Well, you're always talking to me about Barb, I don't even remember the last time you went on a date," I said.

 

"I just haven't met the right person," She said with an expression of finality like there was nothing more to say on the matter.

 

***

 

I arrived at class early the next morning, having had a pretty good rest the night before. It was an interesting role reversal as most of the class had attended Tom's party the night before and either hadn't turned up or were sleeping in their chairs.

 

Melissa Daggett was not among the sleepy populous, she turned up looking prim and proper as she usually did, this time taking a seat next to me. "Did you pass your sleeping disease on to everyone else?" She asked, gazing around at the inordinate number of students with their heads on desks.

 

"Hello to you too" I laughed "There was a party last night, how come you weren't there?"

 

"Frat parties aren't really my thing," She explained, "Plus, Tom is my ex-boyfriend, so it's a little awkward."

 

"Really?" I said, intrigued and oddly jealous at the same time, "He doesn't seem your type."

 

"I dated a lot of jocks in High School, I grew out of it."

 

"A lot?"

 

"Well not a lot, but you know what I mean."

 

"What you do instead? Stay in and read?" I asked, smirking.

 

She scowled at me and said: "I went to a charity fundraiser with my father if you must know, I thought I might have seen you there actually."

 

"Why's that?" I asked.

 

"Bruce Wayne was there, for the first part anyway, I just assumed you'd be tagging along. I was pretty disappointed actually."

 

"Oh, so you wanted me to be there?" A smug look hijacked my face.

 

"Not exactly, it would have just been nice to talk to someone who wasn't a stuffy billionaire or a boring charity worker," She said, quite sincerely.

 

"So there are people that actually rank lower than me on your social scale?!" I laughed.

 

"I know! Can you believe it?" We both laughed, I could see Emily on the other side of the room watching us curiously.

 

Crane barged into the classroom, uncharacteristically late, and the room fell silent. "Good morning class, sorry I'm a little late – it was sadly… unavoidable" He looked directly at Melissa as he said it, which seemed odd. "So, did anyone not manage to finish their team essays over the weekend?"

 

Immediately there were five pairs of hands in the air, including Emily and her partner. I couldn't help but snigger, slightly louder than I'd intended.

 

"Something funny, Mr Grayson?" Crane asked, peering at me through his spectacles as he often did with a look of disgust.

 

"No, Sir" I responded, I wonder what his problem is today…

 

"You may all submit your papers at the end of class, those who were unable to complete the task must stay behind," He said definitively, gesturing to the pair at the back of the room with their hands up to put them down.

 

The lecture itself went much smoother than usual for me. I was strangely alert and thanks to my sessions with Melissa I was actually able to answer some of the quickfire questions Crane put to me, thwarting his blatant attempts to catch me out.

 

At the end of the session, the class walked to the front in pairs. Melissa and I handed in our paper and signed a document which confirmed we'd worked on it together.

 

"And that concludes today's lesson," Crane said after the last pair handed over their work, "Those of you who are staying behind, please come to the head of the class. Everyone else, you may go."

 

"He seemed seriously moody today, more so than usual," Melissa said as we walked out of the classroom together.

 

"I know, must have been a rough weekend at the Crane household" I joked.

 

"I heard he works his weekends at Arkham Asylum, He has something to do with certifying people that plead insanity," She explained, I wondered why I'd never heard that before. It did make a lot of sense though, and it was the perfect place to study the criminal mind.

 

"Wow, no wonder he's so much fun," I said. Melissa laughed and nodded in agreement.

 

"What are you doing now anyway?" she asked.

 

"I'm gonna wait around for Emily, she's still in there getting grilled by the professor. Why do you ask?" I said.

 

"Oh... no reason, I'll see you tomorrow then," She said, somewhat sharply.

 

"OK, see you in class," I replied, a little confused.

 

Melissa smiled weakly and walked away down the corridor. It seemed like she was a little annoyed about something that I said, but I couldn't figure out what.

 

I was sat for about fifteen minutes before Crane finally released his prisoners. Emily walked out in a fury with her other lazy classmates, her face was distorted with an expression of intense frustration. I'd seen her like that before, it was how she looked when I was late or when I came up with some lame excuse for not turning up to something. "That guy is a total ass-head," She growled.

 

"Which one?" I said, referring to Tyreese and Crane.

 

"Both, but Crane mostly."

 

"Yeah I noticed, he seemed on edge today – what'd he say?" I asked, trying not to look smug about not being kept behind.

 

"Just told us all how we were disappointments and stuff, usual Crane BS. It's not my fault I got paired up with a total Neanderthal who doesn't know his ass from his elbow."

 

"Woah, you wanna come over and play a little Xbox and calm yourself down?" I suggested.

 

"Hell yes, then I have to go over to Tyreese's dorm and work on this stupid paper with him."

 

"I can take you over if you want?" I offered, giving my best attempt at a polite smile.

 

"Gee thanks, I'd love a ride on the death bike," Her eyes could have burned a hole in my skull, "No thanks, I'd rather walk."

 

"Woah, should I just not speak?" I asked, edging away from her. She could be very scary; I wouldn't have minded having her with me on patrol sometimes – she'd have made light work of Mr Freeze with her death stare.

 

"Oh don't be such a baby, let's go back to yours so I can kick your ass on Call of Duty," She said commandingly.

 

"Yes, mam," I paused for a second, "Although I prefer Halo."

 

"Call of Duty," She hissed.

 

"Call of Duty it is."

 

The rest of the week passed slowly. I spent most of it in my apartment with either Emily or Nate, playing Xbox, watching movies and eating pizza. I was going to be in great shape when I got back on patrol with my all-new gut. All I had was one class on the following Monday, and then I had Bruce's permission to get back in the game. Not that I needed it, but I didn't want to rock the boat.

 

If I wasn't in my apartment; I'd be in class with good old Professor Crane. The cranky asshole had actually been going easy on me because I'd been early to every lecture that week, it felt unnatural having a full week's worth of sleep. Crane wasn't the only one to notice my change in behaviour, Melissa had given me at least two compliments on my punctuality – which for her, was pretty serious.

 

I arrived to find an empty classroom that morning, the seats were vacant, and I noticed that none of Crane's files were on his desk. The professor was usually there by now prepping his lesson, I'd only known him to be late on two occasions before this one. Melissa was next to enter the class "Well look at you, here on time again," She smiled "Those narcolepsy drugs must be working a treat."

 

"You seem almost… cheerful today, good weekend?" I asked, with uncommonly genuine curiosity.

 

"I just like Monday mornings, what can I say," She said, unironically.

 

"You like Mondays?" I scowled.

 

"Yeah what's wrong with that?"

 

"What's wrong with that? You are such a dork" I laughed.

 

"Hey!" She snarled, "That was mean."

 

The class began to fill up quickly, but Crane still hadn't arrived. "Where is he?" Melissa asked me.

 

"I really don't know, maybe we should go ask someone" I responded, as I did the classroom door opened and a professor I didn't recognise walked down the steps to Crane's desk. She was tall with short black hair and a lab coat.

 

"Good morning class, I'm afraid the professor will not be attending class today – he was hospitalised over the weekend and won't be back for another few days," The lady professor told us.

 

"Wait so we can go?" I heard Tyreese call from the back of the class.

 

"That's correct" she smiled. The class instantly rose to their feet and scrambled for the door. Emily was among the crazed mass of students spilling out of the small double-door entrance.

 

Melissa and I were among the four students that stayed in their seats and waited for everyone to disperse. "Hey, could I ask a favour?" Melissa said, nervously.

 

"Ask away" I replied.

 

"Could I hang out at your place for a while?" That was unexpected.

 

"Uhm, sure…" I responded with confusion "Why?"

 

"I live in the city, and my dad is supposed to be picking me up after class, he won't be able to get me for another hour at least."

 

"Look if you wanna hang out with me you don't have to come up with such lame excuses," I joked.

 

"Oh shut up."

 

"Come on then, Miss Daggett, let's get a move on."

 

We exited the main Psychology building and made our way to the student apartment complex where I lived.

 

"So how come you still live in the city?" I asked her as we walked.

 

"My dad doesn't trust me living away from home," she explained.

 

"Sounds like he's a little overprotective."

 

"More than a little, he's seriously paranoid – he thinks everyone is out to get him."

 

"I take it he's a pretty big deal?" I asked, she'd never actually told me who he was and I'd never thought to look it up.

 

"Wait… You don't know who he is?" She said, looking puzzled.

 

"Should I?"

 

"Roland Daggett, of Daggett Industries?"

 

It clicked in my head, I'd never met Daggett, but he ran in the same circles as Bruce, "So you mean I'm talking to the heiress to the Daggett cosmetics and pharmaceutical fortune? Should I bow?" I said.

 

"Oh you're so funny" She lightly punched my arm "I can't believe you didn't know that."

 

"Sorry, should I have googled you when we met?" I laughed.

 

"No… That would be weird…" She said with an odd look on her face.

 

"Oh my god, you googled me didn't you," I said before laughing hysterically.

 

"Be quiet! I just wanted to know if it was true about you being adopted by Bruce Wayne."

 

"You could have just asked," I said.

 

"Well, I just thought it was weird that Dick Grayson was some kind of sleep-deprived student who lived on campus. I thought you'd be a party boy or something."

 

"How do you know I'm not a party boy? I could be the biggest party boy around for all you know," I laughed.

 

"Maybe you are, but you don't really strike me as the Oliver Queen type."

 

"Maybe I'll come to your dad's next cocktail party, raise the profile a little"

 

She laughed "I'm sure my dad would appreciate the social boost."

 

"And I've met Oliver Queen, we got on like a house on fire," I said, smiling smugly at her.

 

Before long we were walking into the lobby of my building and making our way up the stairs. My apartment was at the very end of the corridor on the top floor. I unlocked the door and let Melissa in, she made herself comfortable as she had on her previous visits and sat on the sofa. Immediately turning on the TV as I headed to the kitchen to grab a drink.

 

"Can I get you a drink?" I asked.

 

"Sure, what are you having?" She replied.

 

"Water"

 

"Ooo, party boy, I'll have water too then please."

 

I brought over the drinks and put them on the coffee table, parking myself in the armchair. Melissa stared at me as if I'd just done something very odd. "Why are you sitting over there?" She asked.

 

"It's my chair?"

 

"Come sit with me, idiot" She smiled "I'm not diseased."

 

I wasn't going to question her, I shifted on to the sofa next to her. She smiled at me and took a sip of her water. She took off her glasses and put them down on the coffee table, her eyes shone crystal blue, I'd never noticed quite how beautiful they were until that moment.

 

Melissa untied her hair and shook her head, letting it flow down her back, and over her shoulders, it was starting to feel like I was in a music video or a shampoo commercial. Finally, she removed her jacket and slumped back into a more comfortable position. All of a sudden I was feeling very conscious about how I looked.

 

"You don't mind watching this do you?" She asked. It was Real Housewives of Coast City, one of my least favourite shows on TV – and that was saying a lot as I didn't watch that much TV.

 

"No, not at all" I lied.

 

We sat and watched the awful reality show until the first commercial break. My eyes had long-since glazed over, the last thing I remembered seeing was a very heavily botoxed woman throwing a drink over an equally modified female.

 

"You are literally hating every minute of this aren't you" Melissa laughed.

 

"Not every minute, I'm enjoying the commercials," I said, sarcastically.

 

"You should have said, I'll turn it over."

 

"Oh come on, I love watching rich housewives complain about their lives in their gold-plated mansions" I joked.

 

"Hey, you grew up in a gold-plated mansion," She said, she wasn't wrong I suppose.

 

"So did you!" I retorted, remembering what she'd said about her father.

 

"Not true, I grew up in a gold-plated penthouse," She smirked, I couldn't help but laugh.

 

"Touché"

 

"Do you ever think it would've been nice to grow up in a more normal environment?" Melissa asked.

 

"You seem pretty normal to me."

 

"Pretty normal? Gee thanks" She scowled.

 

"You know what I mean, but yeah – I get it."

 

"I'd say you turned out pretty normal too, considering the circumstances…" She stopped after what she'd said and flinched as though she meant to bring her hand up to her mouth but stopped herself. She was obviously referring to my parents.

 

"Wow, you really did google me didn't you," I said, in the absolute wrong tone, which made me sound like I was offended when I really wasn't.

 

"I'm sorry I shouldn't have said that… I wasn't thinking," Melissa said apologetically.

 

"No it's fine, honestly – it's public information I guess" I smiled at her, she smiled back sympathetically and put her hand on mine. I felt a sudden surge of electricity.

 

"I think maybe I'd better go…" She suggested, her eyes were fixed on mine. It wasn't until I felt her breath on my face that I realised our heads were only inches from each other. I was overwhelmed, paralysed. Everything fell away in that moment as my arm moved around her waist and her lips pressed against mine.

 

Melissa pulled me into her, and we continued our passionate embrace, her hands running through my hair as I explored her curves with mine.

 

I felt like I could have lived in that moment forever.

 

Had it not been for a loud knock at my door.

 

We both leapt to attention and moved away from each other like we'd been caught at the scene of a crime.

 

"It's my dad," she said quietly, rearranging her hair and tying it back up. I handed her the glasses and jacket she had dropped on the table.

 

"Well, this was… Yeah… Uhm… I guess I'll see you in class," She said awkwardly, checking her makeup in the reflection of her cell phone.

 

"Yeah, next class is on Wednesday at 9am right?" What a weird thing to say. She looked at me like I was crazy.

 

Awkwardly, she responded "That's right, see you then" She rushed to the door and opened it "Hey dad" she closed it behind her almost immediately. I could hear the muffled sounds of her father quizzing her through the door.

 

I could safely say that class was going to be pretty awkward on Wednesday morning.


	6. Nobody Does It Better

The view from the roof of Wayne Enterprises HQ was spectacular, it was one of the tallest buildings in Gotham with an almost unparalleled view of the Gotham Bay. It wasn't discussed enough how genuinely beautiful the city was, especially at sunset. I'd been up there many times before, even taking Barbara up for a date at one point, it just so happened that Bruce had picked it as our meeting point.

 

"Nightwing," Batman said in his usual growl, appearing behind me as if from nowhere.

 

"How do you do that?!" I sharply responded. Bats had a habit of appearing and disappearing without a sound.

 

"Did Barbara fill you in?" He asked.

 

"No, this is the first Bat-related contact I've had all week," I said, I'd somehow managed to stay entirely out of the loop.

 

"The Vertigo case has escalated," Batman explained.

 

"How so?"

 

"The toxicology report came back from Clancy Wolfman's body."

 

"So it really was him, huh?"

 

"Yes," Batman went on, "He had an even more concentrated dose of Vertigo in his system than the one that you were exposed to."

 

"And it killed him?" I sounded surprised, but I wasn't. After what I'd been through in the loft, it didn't shock me at all that Vertigo could kill somebody in the right concentration.

 

"Yes, from the post-mortem, it seems as though he literally died of fright. But, there's more" Batman continued, handing me his batphone, "Watch this."

 

I flicked the play button on the screen, and security footage began to roll. The setting of the video appeared to be the alleyway where Clancy's body had been found, he was leaned against his bike playing around with his cellphone – it looked like he was waiting for someone.

 

As I suspected, a shadow appeared on the wall on the alley, it had the shape of a van. The owner of the shadow marched toward Clancy and began what looked like a heated exchange, I could only guess as the footage had no sound. The man was hooded and cloaked in brown, his clothes looked like they'd been pulled out of a trash can. With there being no sound we couldn't hear what the argument was about. It culminated in Clancy pushing the other man backwards, making his front visible.

 

"What the hell?" I quizzed, the man was wearing a cloth sack over his face with stitched eyes and a mouth – he looked like a Scarecrow.

 

The Scarecrow raised his arm, and something sprayed out from his up his sleeve and into Clancy's face. The biker helplessly flailed his arms around, mouth wide open as if he was screaming. The Scarecrow casually walked away, leaving Clancy writhing on the floor with bulging eyes and an open mouth until he eventually, after a few moments of squirming, stopped moving.

 

"That was…" I began, but I couldn't think of a word to describe what I'd seen.

 

"I know," Batman nodded, taking back the phone and attaching it to his utility belt.

 

"So what's our next move?" I asked, ready to roll.

 

"I want you to patrol the docks and keep an eye on the biker territories," He told me.

 

"Sure, what about you?" I said, walking toward the edge of the roof

 

"I'm going to go back to the alley and see if we missed anything."

 

"Missed something, I didn't know you could miss-" I turned back, he was gone, "Typical."

 

I stood on the precipice for a moment and breathed in the night air – being up there felt like home, it felt like being back on the high wire with my parents. It reminded me of everything I loved about the circus, the rush of adrenaline from being one wrong move away from death. The feeling gave me an unusual sense of focus.

 

Arms outstretched and grapple in hand I let myself fall forward into the open air. I hurtled faster than a bullet toward the ground, allowing myself to fall a quarter of the way down before firing a line on to a nearby building. I swung on the rope and fired a second one, simultaneously detaching the first as the second landed on the following structure. The line reeled in and pulled me to a few feet from the top of the building, planting my feet on the large windows I ascended as quickly as I walked on the ground. Next stop, Bleake Island Docks.

 

I spent the rest of the evening hanging around on rooftops near the biker bar. It was seemingly all for nothing, as the bikers were tamer than they'd ever been.

 

I made my way back to my apartment via the rooftops. My mind wandered as I hopped from roof to roof, my thoughts ping-ponged back and forth from Vertigo to Clancy, to the Scarecrow and to Melissa. I knew I had much bigger fish to fry, but I couldn't help but think about how much I regretted the way I left things with her.

 

I landed on the roof of my apartment and activated the electronic door hidden under the roof tiles which gave me easy access to the loft. As I took off my costume, I wondered whether it would be appropriate to give her a call… I looked at her name and number on my cell phone and pondered what I'd say. The right words just weren't coming to me, so I put down the phone and crawled into bed.

 

The following day was spent training in the apartment – weights, treadmill, punch-bag, repeat. A day spent waiting for it to get dark so that I could hit the streets.

 

When the night finally arrived, I was out of the apartment and immediately on to the rooftops.

 

I found myself atop the Stromwell building again. The night sky was a beautiful shade of deep indigo, the structures of Gotham looked terrific in the moonlight. I couldn't help but be amazed by the scenery, it was something I was guilty of taking for granted when I grappled along the gargoyles and the gothic arches.

 

Unfortunately, I wasn't up there for a sightseeing tour, and I'd just spotted what I was looking for.

 

The young purple-clad girl was at it again. Her determination was admirable as she attempted to successfully clear the gap she'd failed to the last time we ran into each other. Starting from a crouched position she sprung into a frantic sprint, not pacing herself, she apparently wasn't any kind of athlete – but she was still reasonably fit.

 

She lost no momentum as she approached the edge of the building, and with all of her energy, she leapfrogged forward, easily clearing the ledge. One thing she hadn't counted on was her landing, her foot hit the floor at an angle, twisting her ankle in the process. She hit the dirt, hard.

 

I emerged from under the ledge where I'd been hiding with a smile on my face. Beginning a slow clap, I strolled towards my incapacitated new friend.

 

"You know," I began, "Rocky always had a song for his training montage – it's clinically proven to increase performance."

 

Spoiler looked up at me from the ground, her scowl visible even under the mask, "What do you want?"

 

"I thought I told you not to go anywhere?" I asked, still smugly smiling at her.

 

"You were gone for hours... Like I was just gonna sit around."

 

"Yeah, that turned into one hell of a night," I admitted.

 

"Cool," she said, in as cold a tone as the night air.

 

"What are you doing up here?" I asked.

 

"Practicing," She snapped back.

 

"For what?" I asked, "Wait, let me guess – none of my business?"

 

"Bingo!"

 

I stretched out my hand and offered to help her to her feet. Spoiler immediately batted my hand away and jumped up by herself.

 

"You not gonna run away this time?" I asked, wondering why she hadn't already tried to make another feeble escape attempt.

 

"Would there be any point?" She replied with a sigh.

 

"No, probably not," I said, there was a long pause where we looked each other up and down. She was taller than I remembered, if I had to guess on voice and height alone I'd say we were around the same age – I may have been slightly older. I finally continued "You know… it's not often I get to catch a super-villain in training."

 

"Villain!?" She spat, folding her arms like an angry infant "What makes you think I'm the bad guy? Did it ever occur to you that I maybe want to fight the bad guys?!"

 

"Admirable career path, but you should leave it to the pros," I said, gesturing to myself.

 

"Oh you're a pro, are you? HA!" She exclaimed I imagined a look of disgust on her face.

 

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked incredulously.

 

Our conversation was interrupted by the sound of an alarm; a robbery could have been in progress. "We'll finish this conversation later… do you need a hand getting down?" I took her response of a middle finger as a no.

 

I dropped into the alleyway below and began to move toward the noise, I heard no sirens, so the police were not going to get to the incident in good time.

 

I arrived at the grocery store where the alarm was coming from, there was no one in sight, but the main window was broken and looked to be the only point of entry. Curiously the cash register hadn't been emptied, I had to go in and investigate.

 

Stealthily I crept across the store, activating my night vision so as not to miss anyone lurking in the shadows.

 

After a quick sweep of the ground floor, I found nothing and disconnected the alarm. Immediately I could hear shouting in the apartment above, this wasn't a robbery. I made my way up the stairs in the back of the store – I could only assume the owner lived upstairs.

 

"I'm sorry Davey, I'm sorry!" I heard a voice shouting through the wall.

 

I slid along the hallway pressed against the wall, making sure I ducked to avoid knocking off the ugly china plates that were mounted to the wall.

 

"Sorry?!" Responded another voice, he must have been Davey "You ruined my life!"

 

"Davey look, we didn't mean for this to happen!"

 

"We?" He growled, "We! We being you and my wife!"

 

"Davey, man, just put the gun down and we can talk about this" It was a hostage situation, I had to act fast. I edged toward the door and twisted the handle.

 

"Look, Davey, the cops are here for god's sake!" the shop owner cried.

 

"I'm not a cop" I called, from my cover beside the door.

 

"I can still shoot you through this wall!" Davey shouted, "So you better come in."

 

He had me there, I revealed myself in the doorway, hands in the air. The two men were stood in a kitchen, Davey had the shopkeeper pinned against the refrigerator door.

 

"Oh shit, you're screwed now Davey boy" The shopkeeper laughed. His glee was short-lived as Davey threateningly forced the revolver up into the shopkeeper's throat and pulled back the hammer.

 

"You sure it's me who's screwed, huh Pete?" Davey asked, rhetorically. Pete had closed his eyes and screwed his face up in anticipation of the bullet that he thought would inevitably follow.

 

"Davey," I began, "You wanna tell me what happened? Maybe I can help you."

 

"How you gonna do that?" He replied, not taking his eyes off Pete's terrified face.

 

"Well for one, I'm not a cop" I explained, "So this doesn't have to end with you behind bars, we could come to some kind of arrangement – right Pete?"

 

"Y-yeah, right," Pete replied, quivering.

 

"Why would I arrange anything with this asshole, he's been banging my wife behind my fricking back!" Davey roared "There are enough bullets in this gun for all three of us anyway, so no jail for me."

 

"So, you're going to let Pete win?" I said, edging closer with my hands in the air.

 

"Huh?" Davey turned his head to me for a second, "Keep back" I stopped moving. His head turned back to Pete.

 

"Well, if you kill him, and I grab you – you end up in prison," I said, not knowing whether he was even really listening, "And if you kill him and manage to kill yourself – your life is really over."

 

"And what if I kill you?" he questioned.

 

"Then you'd go to jail, and the mayor would have to pay out for a very expensive statue in my honour" Surprisingly, the joke cracked Davey's angry facade, just for a second.

 

"What's your point anyway?" He said, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his unarmed hand.

 

"My point is, are you really going to let this asshole take everything from you?" I asked, gesturing to the pinned-up shopkeeper.

 

Pete looked at me, now more scared than ever – he didn't seem to notice that Davey was now entirely focused on me.

 

"She was everything to me, she still is," Davey said, his voice quieter and calmer than before.

 

"It may seem like that now, but you're not that old, man. There's time for you to move on – you've built this woman up and put her on this pedestal, but maybe she's not everything you thought?" I said, probably jumping the gun a little, no pun intended.

 

He pulled the gun away from Pete and pointed it at me, "What the hell do you know about her?!"

 

"Not a thing, Davey, not a thing," I reassured him, "But I know that there has to be someone out there that will love you as fiercely as you love this woman, someone who won't cheat on you with your friend."

 

"Oh god, it's too late man, I've already gone too far!" Davey shouted, flailing the gun around. I could have taken him out right there, but I believed I could talk him around.

 

"No, you haven't. Put the gun down, and we can walk out of here together."

 

Davey winced and steadied his hand, pointing the gun directly at my head. I had always been good at reading faces in this type of situation, but for a split second, I really wasn't sure what his next move was going to be.

 

He squeezed his eyes shut, and his hand began to shake.

 

My instincts about Davey proved to be correct – he lowered the gun and proceeded to put it down on the kitchen counter. The broken man burst into a flood of tears while Pete breathed a sigh of relief on the floor. Davey stumbled forward and grabbed me, clutching my arms as if he couldn't carry his own weight "I just wanna go home, man," he cried.

 

"Then let's go," I smiled, pulling him up to stand without my support.

 

He smiled weakly and sniffed "Yeah, let's go" he agreed.

 

Before we could start toward the door, we were interrupted "You think you can come here and make a fool out of me!" Pete was stood, holding the gun and pointing it at Davey's chest "I'll just say it was self-defence."

 

I could see the conviction in Pete's eyes, he had every intention of pulling that trigger.

 

There was a loud bang.

 

Time seemed to slow down as I spun myself into the trajectory of the bullet leaving the chamber – Davey and I were face to face as I felt it hit me in the right side of my back. Letting out a wince of pain I threw myself forward to knock Davey on the floor and keep him covered.

 

Before I had time to think of my next move I heard a tremendous crash like shattering porcelain.

 

I looked up to see Spoiler in the doorway, Pete was in a bloody heap on the floor – shards of the broken china plate surrounding his unconscious body.

 

I rolled off of Davey and on to my back, Spoiler rushing to my side as I let out an enormous sigh of relief, "Did he just shoot you?" She asked.

 

"A little" I replied, breathless, reaching my arm down my back.

 

"You gonna be alright?" She asked with a somewhat genuine concern in her voice.

 

"Yeah, it's only a surface wound – the armour stopped it going all the way," I said, flicking the bullet from the surface of my armour. Turning to Davey, I asked, "You alright?"

 

Davey sat up and looked over at me "You just took a bullet for me, man" He responded, wide-eyed with gratitude.

 

"Don't mention it" I smiled "Although I wouldn't mind if you guys helped me up, it did knock the wind out of me slightly."

 

The two of them helped me to my feet while I caught my breath again.

 

"That was a pretty good throw by the way," I said, turning to Spoiler.

 

"I know," Spoiler replied, arrogantly.

 

"You could still use a little training."

 

"Is that an offer?" She said, her voice perkier than it had been.

 

"Maybe"

 

***

 

Being shot was the ultimate excuse to skip class. I was going to do nothing but lay on the sofa all day watching crappy daytime TV and eating junk food.

 

Davey and Spoiler had helped me get out of the building before the cops arrived, what I'd done appeared to have sparked a change in both of them.

 

Davey's dance with death seemed to have given him a new drive to do something positive. I let him go, but there was no doubt the police were going to catch up with him. Davey said he was ready to face up to what he'd done – I wouldn't have been surprised if he'd turned himself in that very night.

 

Spoiler appeared to have a newfound respect for me, she could see the lengths I'd go to to protect people. Unfortunately for me she ended the night even more determined and inspired to carry on with her 'training'. I was going to have to keep an eye on her.

 

My cell phone rang late that morning – it was Barbara.

 

"Hey, Barb," I greeted.

 

"Hey Dick, I'm outside with a moving van – care to help with some boxes?" Barbara explained.

 

"Didn't I tell you I got shot last night?" I sighed.

 

"You've got a bruised rib stop feeling sorry for yourself and get down here."

 

"Well, since I don't have a choice…"

 

I walked downstairs to the front entrance of the Apartment Complex, sure enough, Barbara was stood at the back of a large moving van full of wooden crates.

 

"Did I miss the memo? Are we moving in together?" I joked, probably not the best thing to say to an ex.

 

"Hilarious," She scowled, "It's the furniture you wanted me to bring over" Her eyes pointed to a group of civilians loitering on the sidewalk.

 

"Ohhh the furniture, let me help you with that," I said, reaching for a box.

 

I had to take five once we'd gotten all of the crates into the apartment. Barbara was stood in the kitchen with a clipboard, checking things off a list.

 

"Alright, that's everything" She stated, "I'll start setting up your new equipment once you've brought the old stuff down."

 

"No rest for the wicked huh?"

 

Barbara and I spent the afternoon and most of the early evening putting together my new equipment – the loft was nearly unrecognisable by the time we'd finished. It was now brimming with top of the range gear which she assured me wasn't going to blow up in my face.

 

She also promised me she would be back with a few extra gadgets and was going to find a way to store my Wingcycle nearby so that I didn't have to do everything on foot.

 

My new computer had a direct link to the main bat-computer in the cave, which meant I had access to Bruce's entire database of information. I felt as though I'd been given a long-overdue promotion.

 

My alarm clock did nothing for me the next day, I awoke naturally about half an hour after the start of my first class of the day. With it being one of Crane's lectures I couldn't imagine him being particularly forgiving.

 

After hurriedly getting dressed I sprinted down the stairs of the Apartment Building and made my way across the campus as fast as I could.

 

I arrived at the classroom and burst through the door – the doors clattered into the walls, alerting the entire class to my presence. Every head in the room was turned towards me. I walked to my seat next to Melissa with the whole room watching me.

 

"Nice of you to prise yourself from your pillow Mr Grayson – Last week's punctuality must have been a fluke I assume?" Crane said, glaring at me with his judgmental death-stare.

 

"Sorry, sir," I responded, making an excuse just didn't seem worth the effort.

 

"That you are, Mr Grayson," He jabbed, "Anyway, as I was saying…"

 

Crane continued with his lecture on whatever he was talking about, I quietly unpacked my bag and began to take notes. After a few minutes, Melissa turned and looked at me with an expression of total disgust.

 

"What?" I whispered.

 

"Nothing," She replied sharply under her breath.

 

"OK then," That was probably the worst thing I could have said.

 

"You didn't have to skip class yesterday just to avoid me you know," She whispered, so quickly that I had to lurch closer to make sure I'd heard correctly, "If you don't like me that's fine, but you don't have to be such an ass about it."

 

"I wasn't avoiding you?" I hissed back as quietly as I could.

 

"Oh yeah? Well, you didn't call or send me any messages, we just kissed, and that was that – no contact for days," Melissa snarled. The girl in the seat behind us gave a snort of amusement.

 

Sending the girl behind us a glare, I turned back to Melissa and whispered as calmly as I could: "It was you that ran off, I didn't know you wanted me to call."

 

"Ran off? My dad arrived, what did you want me to do? Invite him in and talk about how we were just making out?"

 

"Is there something you too want to share with the class?" Crane interrupted, his eyes fixed upon us.

 

"No sir," I said, blushing slightly.

 

"Grayson was just trying to catch up on some notes, sir," Melissa told him.

 

"Is that what they're calling it nowadays," The girl behind us sniggered.

 

"Quiet please, Miss Winward," Crane said, waving a hand at her, before turning his attention back to me: "Grayson can catch up on notes in his own time, Miss Daggett, right now you should both be listening and staying silent!" I was starting to get the feeling he really didn't like anybody, especially students – so why he chose to teach was a complete mystery to me.

 

"Sorry, sir," Melissa whimpered in embarrassment before whispering, "asshole," under her breath, I wasn't sure if she meant Crane or me.

 

Emily signalled me from across the room with her eyes, her signal was followed by a vibrating in my pocket. I pulled out my cell phone and tried to hide it from Crane's view, Emily's message read: When did you two get so pally?

 

I replied: I was just getting some notes.

 

She looked over at me pulling her usual face of disbelief, the one she gave when I made excuses for flaking on her. She followed the look with another message: You suck at lying LOL see you at your place tonight.

 

"Is that why you were avoiding me?" Melissa whispered she'd been reading my messages.

 

"What?" I replied, not knowing what she meant.

 

"You have a girlfriend," She whispered as if it were a solid fact.

 

"What? No, I don't, Emily is just a friend," I snapped back.

 

"Sure, whatever, I don't even care," Melissa replied, sounding as far from 'don't care' as it was humanly possible to sound.

 

"Clearly."

 

Crane slammed his fist on his desk "Last warning, Mr Grayson, hold your tongue, or you'll be spending the night in this classroom catching up on everything you've missed."

 

I caught Melissa smiling out of the corner of my eye, she was enjoying Crane's abuse now that it was only aimed at me. I wasn't going to risk talking now, but mine and Melissa's conversation was far from over.

 

As class rounded up I began to pack up my things, Melissa was rushing to pack so that she could leave before me "Can we talk?" I asked her hopefully.

 

She didn't answer and gave me a scowl, which to me indicated that the answer was no. Melissa barged past me and headed for the classroom door.

 

"Mr Grayson, a word please," Crane called out as I started toward the door.

 

I hesitantly walked to the head of the class where Crane was leaning over papers on his desk. His head shot up, and he glared into my eyes "You missed yesterday's lecture" He stated, turning around to face away from me, "You need to catch up."

 

"Yes sir," I said, not really knowing how else to respond.

 

"Here," He handed me a large book "You missed the subjects covered in chapters ten and eleven, I expect you to be an expert on them by next week."

 

"No problem, sir" I took the book and headed for the door.

 

Emily was sat waiting for me on a table outside of the classroom, she hopped to her feet and strolled over "Hey bestie, wanna tell me what that was all about?" She asked immediately, referring to my heated conversation with Melissa.

 

"Nothing, I needed some notes," I laughed, she knew I was lying.

 

"You know we're spending the evening together, right?" She said, smirking.

 

"Right?"

 

"So I will get the truth from you eventually."

 

I laughed uncomfortably, and we made our way to the building's exit. Emily was definitely going to get the truth out of me, eventually. I kind of wanted to talk to her about it anyway.

 

As we approached the door, there was a lot of noise coming from the courtyard outside. A small crowd was forming outside, cheering in a circle – a lot like when there was a fight in the schoolyard.

 

Moving closer it was starting to look like it may have been exactly that, two girls were shouting at each other in the centre of the circle.

 

"Look, Tanya I know you took the goddamn phone so just give it back," One girl shouted, she had long sandy blonde hair which and a very distinctive nose ring in her left nostril. She wore a baggy white tee and some high waisted jeans. It took a second to come back to me, but I recognised her as the girl who had barged past me in the corridor a couple of weeks prior.

 

The girl she was facing off against, Tanya, was much taller with short black hair and a formidable build, she wore a plaid shirt and baggy jeans – she didn't look like someone to be messed with.

 

A girl from the crowd approached the blonde girl, trying to pull her back, "Steph, just leave it OK, it's fine I can just get another one."

 

"What? No, this bitch stole your phone from your bag – she needs to give it back" Steph replied, turning to Tanya and snarling through gritted teeth.

 

"Did you just call me a bitch?" Tanya snorted, "I'll mess up your pretty little face if you don't walk away right now, I didn't take nothing."

 

"You'll mess up my face?" Steph laughed, she was pretty cocky for someone so much smaller than her opponent, but I knew better than anyone that appearances could be deceiving, "How's about I knock you on your ass, take my friend's phone back, and we call it a day?"

 

The bigger girl lunged forward at Steph, her fists raised. The blonde dashed to one side and stuck out her leg to trip Tanya, whose face collided with the grass. Tanya pulled herself to her feet and spun to attack Steph again, Steph's immediate response was to land a punch right on Tanya's nose – causing it to spurt blood on impact. It was hard to tell from where I was stood, but it looked broken.

 

The crowd gasped in a loud chorus. Emily was now among them.

 

I pushed my way through the horde and moved into the centre where the two women stood facing off against one another. Taking a step out, I positioned myself between the fighters: "Don't you guys think that's enough now?" I asked them, the crowd booing me as I did, it was meant to be a rhetorical question, but Steph answered.

 

"It's enough when she admits what she did" The girl snarled.

 

"I didn't do nothing!" Tanya responded, sniffing hard and holding her bleeding nose in both hands.

 

Steph circled around me and began rifling through what must have been Tanya's rucksack "Get outta my bag, bitch!" Tanya shouted, stomping towards Steph.

 

I put my hand out to stop the girl from moving any closer, "If you didn't do anything then you've got no need to worry" I rationally stated, flinching slightly as Tanya aggressively growled at me.

 

Sure enough, Steph raised her hand in the air clutching a pink iPhone. "Is this yours?" She asked her friend in the crowd.

 

Her friend nervously nodded even though Tanya was glaring at her, signalling her to say no. The crowd roared and began to clap for Steph as Tanya grabbed her rucksack and ran off.

 

Steph smugly smiled and picked up her own bag, making her way out of the crowd with her friend in tow. The crowd dispersed quickly once there was nothing more to see, Emily and I walked off in a separate direction to the two warring girls.

 

"That girl was awesome," Emily said, "Put her on a poster for the college feminist society, and I bet they'd have way more applicants."

 

I laughed, she had a point, "You know her?"

 

"No, I think she's a freshman, not your average freshman though," She chuckled.

 

"Definitely not," I agreed.

 

"Maybe she's Batgirl?" Emily joked.

 

"That would explain a lot" I laughed again, Emily looked as if she was pondering the thought for a second that maybe Steph was Batgirl – but eventually shook her head.

 

"You ever wonder if anyone on Campus could be a vigilante though?" She asked.

 

"Maybe," I replied, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible, "If all the other professors are like Crane, I very much doubt it."

 

"What do you mean?" She asked.

 

"Well with the amount of studying he makes us do how would anyone have time to do any crime-fighting?" I explained.

 

She laughed, "That's true, if anything I think Crane is probably a super villain!"


	7. Sharp Dressed Man

When I had initially cut ties with Batman and decided to join the Titans, I still had regular access to the Batcave – it was only after the death of Jason and the end of my relationship with Barbara that the relationship truly broke down. It wasn't that Bruce ever told me I couldn't come back, that's just how it felt… Like I'd failed as Robin, and that's why Jason had to take on the role in the first place, and eventually ended up dead.

 

In that time I had made all my own repairs to the Nightwing suit, and since the shooting incident, it was looking a little worse for wear. The costume itself was made from specialised materials that were built to withstand various levels of wear and tear – but the more holes I made and stitched up, the more vulnerable I was.

 

It felt like Christmas when I returned home from class that Friday afternoon and went up to my loft. I'd had another day of being flat out ignored by Melissa, who'd seen me leave the previous class with Emily – fuelling her theory that I was some kind of sleaze-bag who had cheated on Emily with her. So naturally, I wasn't in a good mood.

 

Walking through the apartment door, I headed straight for the bookcase and scanned my thumb along the Robin Hood DVD. The bookshelf clunked, my new security system springing to life, and the secret door swung forward and revealed the staircase to the loft.

 

There was now another sliding metal door at the top of the stairs, which only opened once the bookcase door had shut behind me. The secondary door hissed open, behind it was my flashy new equipment – complete with a top of the range mini forensic lab, medical station, equipment storage, and high-tech batcomputer, still housed in the chimney breast. To my surprise there were now three glass chambers at the far end of the loft, the glass was blacked out so I couldn't see what was in them.

 

As I approached, I noticed a yellow post-it note on the glass: 'looked like you needed a new one, love Barb x.'

 

I flicked the switch on the metal panel which sat in the centre of the glass cylinders – lights came on to reveal three Nightwing suits.

 

The centre costume was almost identical to my original with a blue wing across the chest that reached right down the arms, it was a one-piece made up of a sturdy but flexible material that was tailored to my strengths in speed and acrobatics. It was durable enough to take certain damage from bullets and knives, the blue wing across the chest was heavily armoured, as were the shoulder pads and gauntlets. It was paired up with an improved version of my Domino Mask.

 

The suit to the left was a completely armoured suit that sported a large red Bat Symbol, it was very similar to the outfit that Bruce currently used, sans the cape and cowl – it contained a red hood made of fireproof material. This suit was obviously for more 'heavy duty' missions. This outfit was paired with a Domino Mask which could be hooked up to a respirator.

 

In the third case was my original Nightwing suit in all its glory, Barbara had installed a plaque above it which said 'The Original – do not use'.

 

I couldn't quite believe how terrific the new suit felt as I fell through the air at a hundred miles per hour, grappling at the last possible second into a super-fast swing. I wasn't even looking for any crime in particular to stop, and we had no new leads in the Vertigo case - to be honest, I just wanted to be out on the rooftops again.

 

While I hadn't yet tested it in combat, it felt as though I had much more flexibility and the lightweight armour allowed me to move much quicker and more silently. I decided to test my stealth abilities on the corrugated metal roofs of the warehouses down in the industrial part of town, they'd give a good indication of how quiet I was now able to be.

 

I spent most of the night bouncing from roof to roof and swinging from cranes, pushing the suit to its limits – it felt a lot like being back at the circus with my parents, taking risks and pushing boundaries.

 

The warehouse district was incredibly quiet at night, which made it the perfect haunt for prostitutes to discreetly go about their business. I'd noticed that one girl was skulking up and down the roadside waiting for someone to drive past, but didn't seem to be having any luck.

 

While I didn't agree with the lifestyle, I figured it would be worth keeping an eye on her while I was in the area and making sure she was OK. I balanced myself on the high fences that separated the warehouses from the roadside.

 

The dark-haired prostitute was reasonably attractive, not your run of the mill streetwalker. But she seemed to be having trouble picking up customers. That said, it didn't look like she was putting in much effort to pick them up.

 

Her cell phone rang after about half an hour of tailing her, she stared at the screen for a moment – hesitating to answer.

 

"Hey, Stan…" She said, her voice quivering dramatically "… No honestly, it'll pick up… I'm doing the best I can… Fine… OK… See you soon."

 

After the phone call, she stopped trying to entice the passing drivers altogether.

 

Another half hour passed, a white car pulled up next to the prostitute. Out stepped a man in a white suit with matching white trilby, escorted by his muscle-bound driver. "Trixie, Trixie, Trixie," He addressed her, his voice low and soothing, "Tut tut, not one paying customer all night."

 

Trixie looked petrified as he got closer to her, "I'm sorry, Stan… It's just… It's been a slow night that's all."

 

"Slow night? Wasn't that your excuse last night?" He asked with a sly smile. Trixie began to cry into her hands, "Don't cry baby, we can go back to my place for some training with the other girls."

 

"Please, Stan, I'll try harder… I don't need any practice sessions; I promise I'll do better!" She desperately responded.

 

Stan looked at her and smiled "Oh Trixie," he said softly, getting closer to her "You will do… As you are told," His hand was suddenly behind her head, pulling her hair. She fell to her knees and closed her eyes – expecting to receive a beating.

 

"Please, Stan, please," She grovelled, he removed his hand from her hair and took off his large ruby encrusted ring that looked curiously like the head of a bird, he then proceeded to put on a pair of white gloves. She squeezed her eyes together tightly and buried her head in her hands. I imagined the next thing she heard was a massive thud, like a brick hitting metal.

 

Her eyes opened to see me with my hand on the back of Stan's head, his face pressed against the hood of his car. "You gonna do as you're told now huh, Stan?" I growled. One of Bruce's cardinal rules was never to fight angry – but after what I'd just witnessed I was finding it very hard to contain my disgust.

 

Trixie huddled herself up in a ball against the fence defensively as I threw Stan on to the sidewalk, he landed butt-first in a heap – his driver hopped out of the car ready to attack, I pointed my finger at him "Stay out of this, Argyle."

 

As I expected, the driver charged me. He was huge, if he'd have wanted he could have probably been in the NFL.

 

I was quick on my feet at the best of times, but the bulky driver caught me on the shoulder with his tackling charge as I attempted to evade him.

 

I spun off balance for a second before leaping on to the hood of the white car.

 

"Scared to fight me, asshole?" The driver shouted with a smug look on his face. Stan was attempting to sneak away, I had to act fast.

 

"I'm terrified, please don't hurt me" I mocked.

 

The chunk of muscle lunged again, bad move. Timing it just right, I jumped up and planted my feet on the man's shoulders – my weight smashing his head into the hood of the car.

 

I spring-boarded myself off of the giant unconscious lump and went after Stan who'd managed to crawl a few yards down the sidewalk.

 

"You'll regret this Batboy, I got friends you know – powerful friends," Stan shouted, reaching into his jacket. I lunged at him and pulled his hand from inside his coat, as I suspected; he was reaching for a gun. I knocked the gun on to the floor and lifted him up. I dragged him back to the car and handcuffed him to the door handle. Repeating the process with the driver who was still out cold.

 

Trixie was still curled up by the fence "Don't forget me, Trix, I'll be seeing you soon!" Stan shouted after her, "You're making a huge mistake, boy" he continued, now talking to me.

 

"There's no mistake here, I'm just cleaning scum off the streets," I explained with an over-the-top smile intended to rile him.

 

"You think?" Stan laughed arrogantly.

 

I pressed the emergency callout button on my wristpad "I need a patrol car at my current location, ASAP – I've just apprehended a suspect in the middle of an assault."

 

"Assault, don't make me laugh – I was disciplining an employee."

 

A patrol car happened to be in the vicinity and pulled up where I was standing with my captives not long after I'd made the call.

 

We vigilantes had an odd relationship with the law in Gotham. Some cops wanted to see us put behind bars, and others thought we were a valuable asset – namely the police commissioner, Jim Gordon. Jim had been the commissioner for as long as I could remember, using Bruce and me to stop the big guns like the Joker from running amok. Before Gordon, things were tougher for Batman; who was hunted like a common criminal.

 

To my surprise, my good pal Nate stepped out of the police car with his partner. Not wanting to risk Nate recognising me I stood back in the shadows.

 

The two officers walked towards us with hands on holsters. "Thanks for the call Nightwing," Nate said, giving me a nod.

 

"No problem" I replied, "Tell Commissioner Gordon I said to look into this one, this guy is dangerous, and I have reason to believe he's running an illegal prostitution operation."

 

"I don't know what he's talking about officers, I'm a legitimate businessman!" Stan protested as I unlocked his cuffs and pushed him toward Nate's partner.

 

"Be careful with the driver too, he's a tough cookie" I pointed out.

 

"Thanks," Nate's partner said.

 

I un-cuffed both captives and helped the officers get them in the back of the patrol car. They drove off back to the station and left Trixie in my care.

 

As soon as the police car was gone she rose to her feet "Thanks" She said, sarcastically.

 

"Excuse me?" I replied with surprise.

 

"You may have just ruined a three-month undercover Op," Oh dear, she was a cop.

 

"Oh crap… Sorry about that," I said, I couldn't think of much else.

 

"Our buddy Stan has friends at the station and the DA's Office, and we ain't got a shred of physical evidence on him – so he's gonna walk" She explained angrily.

 

"Look, what else was I supposed to do? Sorry again that I saved you from a beating."

 

"Are you gonna take the stand as a witness to that?" She said, I simply looked at her blankly, "Exactly... He was going to take me back to his compound, you idiot!"

 

"And probably rape you!" I snapped.

 

"I can handle myself, I'd have had a location and definitive proof that this asshole is the scum we all know he is – but you had to swoop in with your superhero act and save me."

 

"So I shouldn't help someone when they're in danger?"

 

"You shouldn't be doing what you're doing at all! If you wanna help, then join the Police Force and obey the goddamn law," The Officer spat aggressively.

 

There was an awkwardly long silence after that. I wasn't a fan of awkward silences, or silences of any kind really.

 

"What's your name?" I asked randomly, in the hope of breaking some of the tension.

 

"What?" She responded.

 

"Well it's not 'Trixie'" I said in a sarcastic tone.

 

"And yours isn't 'Nightwing', I think Trixie is a much more acceptable alias – what the hell is a Nightwing anyway?"

 

I scowled at her, how dare she insult my codename.

 

"It's Detective Ellen Yin," She said finally "You better remember that when you see Gordon, you can tell him it was all your fault when another one of Stan's girls turns up dead."

 

I turned away from her "I'll speak to Gordon" I said, "There's gotta be a way of keeping this 'Stan' off the streets."

 

"Not for long," she said, sceptically.

 

"Maybe long enough for me to find his place."

 

"Haven't you done enough?!"

 

"No, not yet I haven't."

 

"You people..." Yin sighed, "Do you really think you're a hero?"

 

It wasn't something I put too much thought into, in my head I just did what I did, I'd been in this since I was nine years old. To respond to her question, I merely shrugged.

 

"Well, I think you make things worse," She continued, "Even if Gordon is your number one fan."

 

"Is he now?" I said.

 

"Well, not your number one fan, the Batman's" She explained, "Unofficially."

 

"Oh..." I said, trying to hide my wounded pride.

 

I looked up and down the empty road, "You, uhm, want me to walk you home?" I asked.

 

Yin raised her eyebrow and laughed out loud. I didn't laugh with her.

 

"Oh, you're serious?" She said, "Did you miss the part where I said I could look after myself?"

 

"No, I was just being a gentleman," I said.

 

Yin rolled her eyes and began to walk in the opposite direction to me. I let her walk on for a moment, but found myself walking after her not long after. Speeding up a little she called over her shoulder: "Go away!"

 

"I'd feel better if we ended this on good terms," I insisted, which was true, but really I just didn't want her to get murdered by Stan's 'powerful friends' on the way home "Could I at least make my case for the vigilantes?" I had written a whole paper on it after all.

 

"I have a gun," She threatened, still pacing away from me.

 

Barely keeping up without breaking into a run, I looked her up and down "There's no way you have a gun in that bag," I said, gesturing to the small sequinned purse she was carrying.

 

"Try me," Yin snarled, not turning around.

 

I mumbled something in response, I wasn't even sure what I'd said. I followed her a little further until we came to a junction, on which taking a right turn led to a footbridge which would take us back to the main city.

 

"I know you have a pretty weak grasp on the law, but this is stalking, you know that right?" Yin said, stopping in her path and turning around, her voice was a little calmer.

 

"We just happen to be walking in the same direction at this point," I said, "We must live in the same neighbourhood."

 

"Oh, in that case, follow me! In fact, do me one better, take off your mask, write down your real name, address and phone number - and I'll get my cuffs," She said, poking my chest aggressively, but with the hint of a smile on her face.

 

"Is this your really weird way of asking me out?" I said, smirking at her.

 

"You're unbelievable," She snarled, again I thought I could see the hint of a smile before she turned right and began to walk toward the bridge.

 

"You know, you're not the first person to say that to me this week."

 

"Really?" She said, sarcastically, "I can't imagine why." A spec of rain landed on my forehead, only slightly preceding a massive downpour of rain, which caused Yin to sigh loudly.

 

Once we'd reached the footbridge, Yin began to ascend the stairs and disappeared under an archway. I decided to cease following her on foot but definitely wanted to keep an eye on her, so I zipped on to the top of the metal awning which covered the footbridge all the way across the narrow stretch of river.

 

I was strangely delighted to see through a gap in the metalwork that Yin had stopped and peered behind her and undoubtedly looked disappointed that she could no longer see me. The rain was probably working to my advantage, but this was an excellent test for the new suit, as I was only a few feet above Yin, but she definitely couldn't hear me.

 

We travelled a few more blocks into a residential area which wasn't a half bad place to live, especially on a detective's wage. Yin had been cautiously looking over her shoulder for the entire journey but had neglected to look up, which meant I hadn't tried too hard to remain out of her vision.

 

Suddenly, she flicked open her tiny purse and pulled out an equally tiny gun, pointing it up at the lamppost I was squatting on top of. Seeing me waving at her made her sigh with relief and lower the weapon. I dropped down to ground level and grinned at her.

 

"Jesus, I nearly shot you," She said, "I should have shot you."

 

"Who did you think was following you?" I laughed.

 

"I live in Gotham City, you could literally have been a man flying on a helium balloon who wanted to send me floating into the sky."

 

I had to nod in acknowledgement of her logic, it was pretty sound.

 

"My apartment is just over there," She said, pointing a thumb over her shoulder before turning and walking toward it "Feel free to go home now and quit your life of crime."

 

"I'm not a criminal," I said, trying to sound stern, "And I am going to get Stan."

 

She stopped again and turned on her heel, the strangely playful tone of our exchange washed away in the rain as her face sank back into its sour expression "If you want to go around beating up supervillains like Mr Freeze and Poison Ivy, the ones we really can't stop without your help - fine. But this, the stuff with Stan, it's real life. You screwed this up, and people could die. They probably will die. Don't make this any worse than you already have."

 

The Detective turned again and stomped off into the rain. I was dumbfounded, at a complete loss for words. Everything she'd said made sense, which scared me. I watched her disappear into the lobby of the apartment building before making my way back home.

 

***

 

Yin's words had stuck with me, running around my head until the sun began to rise through my bedroom window, but I'd resolved that I wasn't going to let her be right. I couldn't allow myself to be responsible for the death of a young girl at the hands of this 'Stan'. I spent my free time the following week chasing down leads on the street and on the Batcomputer, it couldn't have been that hard to find a brothel.

 

As it turned out, there were a lot of Brothels in Gotham City… And raiding them when Stan was locked up wasn't going to help me put him away. It was starting to look like I'd have to wait for him to be let out so that I could tail him.

 

Barbara had informed me at dinner that there was an event to celebrate the grand reopening of the Gotham City Casino, something I had little to no interest in.

 

I'd read about the grand closure of the place in the newspaper while I was with the Titans, Batman had stopped a bunch of amateurs who were trying to break into the vault. Needless to say, he made quick work of them, but not before they ruined half of the casino with their makeshift explosives.

 

The owners were found to have ties with the very people that were robbing them and ended up behind bars themselves. The Casino had remained unused and derelict until just over a year ago when it was bought by an industrialist named Carl Beaumont, who planned to renovate it. The plans were put on hold when he was murdered by a serial killer named Victor Zsasz, who was subsequently caught by Batman and sent to Arkham. Carl's daughter Andrea, an old flame of Bruce's from college, decided to continue the Casino project in memory of her father.

 

While I wasn't interested in the event, I certainly had an interest in a few of the guests. Harvey Dent was the Assistant DA, and a long-time personal friend of Bruce's, he was known to most people as the White Knight of Gotham because of his relentlessly above-board war on crime. If I could get some drinks down Harvey, I could probably get some clues as to who the corrupt links were at the DA's office. Assuming he knew anything.

 

Another guest that caught my attention was Roland Daggett, not because I wanted to meet the famous pharmaceutical mogul, but because his plus one was often his daughter, Melissa –hopefully, I'd be able to get some face-time with her and sort out our misunderstanding.

 

***

 

One place I'd not visited on my last trip to Wayne Manor was my old bedroom. Unsurprisingly, it had been kept in pristine condition by Alfred, I had gone there to get ready for the evening's events. A poster of the Grey Ghost hung above my old bed, and my cabinet was still filled with highly polished Gymnastics Trophies I'd won at school. The doting butler had even picked out a suit for me and left it hanging on a hook on the back of the door, prepared for my arrival.

 

I had all but buttoned up my shirt and was attempting to tie my tie when Barbara appeared in the doorway. She looked stunning in her evening gown. Her hair was down, which was unusual for her, and she was wearing her contacts.

 

"Looking good," She said with a smile.

 

"Thanks, you're not looking so bad yourself," I said as I continued in my attempt to tie the tie, it wasn't going well.

 

"Come here," She sighed, walking over to me, "You're way too old to not be able to tie a tie," Her hands overlapped my own and took hold of the tie, she proceeded to run it around the back of my neck and flawlessly tie it. She pressed her hands on my chest and looked into my eyes "There, how does that feel?"

 

"Good" I replied, I wasn't sure we were talking about the tie anymore. We were closer than we'd been in a long time, it suddenly hit me that this was the first time I'd looked her dead in the eye since we broke up…

 

For a minute, it felt like she might have been about to kiss me. I can't say for sure whether I'd have stopped her. But then she said the words that dissolved the tension entirely "You need…" She began softly "To brush your teeth," she laughed and patted me on the cheek, and strolled out of the room with a spring in her step.

 

I took a second, checking my breath on the back of my hand, then buttoned up my suit jacket and made my way to the main entrance hall where Bruce and Barbara were waiting.

 

"Ready to go?" Bruce asked as I made my way down the stairs.

 

"Yeah, I'm all good," I said, nodding.

 

"Alright, the Batwing is on standby in case anything goes wrong," Bruce said without a sliver of humour in his tone, he was deadly serious.

 

"Paranoid as ever, I see" I quipped.

 

"It's Gotham City" Barbara interjected, "How many of these functions don't end in gunfire and chaos?"

 

"You're both way too negative, we might even have a good time at this thing," I joked, they didn't look impressed.

 

Alfred opened the main door and called: "Come, Master Bruce, the car is waiting."

 

We walked out of Wayne Manor and hopped in the Rolls Royce that awaited us in the driveway. "Don't forget this," Barbara said, handing me an extravagant eye-mask "It's a masquerade, remember."

 

I looked down at the mask and rolled my eyes, "Remember? This is literally the first time you've mentioned that fact."

 

"I didn't want to put you off," She said, smirking.

 

I turned the mask over in my hand and sighed, it looked a lot like my domino mask, only lacier.

 

I held the car door open for Barbara, clambering in shortly after her. As soon as we were all buckled in, Alfred set off toward the city.

 

"So," Bruce started, "I heard you managed to get yourself shot."

 

"Yeah," I replied, my cheeks turning slightly red with embarrassment, "Not one of my proudest moments."

 

"How'd that happen?" He asked.

 

"The usual, being all heroic and stuff," I said, grinning to distract from the redness of my face.

 

"You're no use to anyone if you're dead, be more careful next time."

 

"I know…" I sighed, like a schoolboy who'd disappointed his teacher "I misread the situation."

 

"We've all been there," Barbara said, with a tone of understanding, "Who's your new helper anyway?"

 

"What?" I replied.

 

"You said there was a girl there, she saved your butt from what you told me," Barbara said, I'd forgotten mentioning that part to her.

 

"She didn't save me, she just made the situation a little easier," I insisted, trying to play down Spoiler's involvement.

 

"Well, who was she?" Barbara continued.

 

"I don't know her real name, but she calls herself the Spoiler."

 

"The Spoiler?" Bruce interjected "Recruiting a sidekick?"

 

"No" I replied, "I ran into her on patrol, from what I can tell she wants to be one of us – I was actually in the middle of warning her off when I had to go and stop the hostage situation."

 

"I'll keep an eye out for her" Bruce said, he didn't sound happy about the idea of me having a sidekick – even if she wasn't one.

 

***

 

We arrived fashionably late to the party, pretty standard practice for Bruce Wayne et al. The Casino was bustling with guests, and everyone seemed to be having a great time mingling with the rich and snooty and losing plenty of money at the Blackjack tables. I sort of recognised some of the B-list celebrities that were there to gain some much-needed exposure, but mostly the room was filled with strangers.

 

"Dick Grayson!" Called a voice "Yoo-hoo, Dick honey, over here!" It was Gerty from the Gotham Gazette, someone I wholesomely wished was a stranger – she was a gossip column writer who had a tendency to be up everyone's nose at these events.

 

"Hey," I responded weakly, suddenly wishing I'd put on my mask as soon I'd walked in.

 

"It's been a long time, Dick!" Gerty began "Is it true you've been keeping away from public events to focus on your schoolwork?" She had a Dictaphone concealed under her hand as if my almost unnoticeable absence from a few social events was somehow a big scoop for her and she needed to record every word.

 

"That's right," I said uncomfortably, my eyes darting around the room looking for an excuse to exit the conversation.

 

"Well, it's just wonderful to see that you're back!" She droned "You must tell me all about…"

 

"Gerty!" Bruce interrupted "I believe I owe you a cocktail. Fancy some Roulette?" He put his arm around her and began to escort her away.

 

"Bruce Wayne, are you trying to get me drunk?" She laughed offensively.

 

"Thanks" I whispered to Bruce.

 

"You looked like you could use the help" He replied under his breath, walking away with Gerty on his arm – it felt as though he'd taken a bullet for me.

 

I abruptly turned around to head in the other direction. In my spontaneous motion, I bumped straight into another guest, spilling her drink down her dress.

 

"Oh my god I'm so sorry" I apologised, pulling out my pocket square to use as a handkerchief.

 

"I already have a pretty long list concerning you, do I need to add clumsy to it too?" It was Melissa Daggett… Of course, it would be Melissa Daggett.

 

I laughed, even more uncomfortably than when I'd been talking to Gerty "Can I escort you to find some paper towels?"

 

She rolled her eyes and patted the wet patch on her once elegant blue dress "What are you doing here, Grayson?"

 

"Would you believe me if I said I was here to see you?" I said, smiling as warmly as I knew how to.

 

"No," She responded sharply, pausing for a moment before asking in a much softer tone "Are you?"

 

"Uhm… Kinda" I responded feebly.

 

"Look I'm just gonna go and clean myself up, you have yourself a lovely night," She walked away toward the washroom, I wasn't going to let her just keep avoiding me like that.

 

"Melissa wait" I called, and gave chase.

 

"What do you want?" We stopped in the empty corridor which must have led to the washroom.

 

"Look, I've been trying to tell you this for a while now…" I said quickly.

 

"Trying to tell me what?" She snapped.

 

"Well for one, Emily is not my girlfriend – she's just a really good friend."

 

"Great, and?"

 

"And, I wasn't just messing you around when I kissed you… I like you, Melissa, I like you a lot," I said, sounding a lot less sincere than I'd have hoped in an attempt to get my words out before she could stop me.

 

"You like me?" She questioned, "Why didn't you just say?"

 

"I tried!" I exclaimed, exhaling exhaustedly.

 

"Well, I guess I shouldn't have just run off on you like that but… the whole thing took me by surprise," Melissa responded, her tone much softer.

 

"Yeah me too, but like I said – I do like you, it wasn't just some random thing" I managed to sound much more convincing that time.

 

"Alright, how about you take me on a date?" She replied, smiling now.

 

"A date?" I asked, stupidly.

 

"Yes, Grayson, a date – it's where two people who like each other go out and partake in an activity together" She explained, sarcastically.

 

"Very funny… When were you thinking?"

 

"I will leave that up to you" She smiled, poking me in the chest and turning to walk away.

 

"Where are you going?" I asked.

 

"I'm going to get cleaned up and enjoy the party. You can call me tomorrow, and we'll have our date!" She smiled and disappeared through the washroom door.

 

I grinned gleefully to myself as I re-joined the party, things were certainly looking up for Dick Grayson, now to find Harvey and turn the tides for Nightwing.

 

***

 

After wading through the hordes of masked dancers and party-goers, I finally came across Harvey, and Bruce sat at a table in the very corner of the bar area. Harvey called out my name and invited me to sit with them.

 

"Where have you been all night, buddy?" Harvey asked cheerfully, I could see Bruce had bought him his fourth cocktail of the night, and he was beginning to loosen up, "Bruce, and I were just talking about you – we both agreed that you've made the right choice taking on the perils of College."

 

"Thanks, Harvey" I grinned.

 

"So what's new down at the DA's office?" Bruce asked.

 

"Nothing much really, they still won't let me take Salvatore Maroni to trial" He explained, "Even though I know for a fact he's running the Falcone Crime Family, now."

 

"How do you know that, Harvey?" Bruce questioned.

 

"Well he was Carmine Falcone's second in command when Batman helped put him away, so it only makes sense he'd take up the top job. I've had plenty of witnesses tell me in confidence, but they've all been too scared to take the stand."

 

"You'll get him eventually, Harv, you always do!" Bruce said, positively.

 

A heavy redheaded gentleman in an expensive grey suit appeared and pulled up a chair to where we were sitting. The man sat down and slammed his giant hands down on the table, each of his fingers had an enormous ring on it - he was extravagant, to say the least, "Bruce Wayne and Harvey Dent – just the men I wanted to see!" He greeted, beaming.

 

"Roland Daggett, how can we help you this fine evening?" Harvey responded cheerfully.

 

This was Melissa's father; I could only hope she hadn't mentioned me.

 

"Well gentleman, I will be running for Mayor next term – and my fiancée told me you'd be the perfect supporters for my campaign!" Roland explained, still bearing a smile that exuded insincerity.

 

"I tend to remain impartial in matters of politics" Bruce responded curtly. Roland's brow shifted into a scowl before Bruce continued "Unless of course, you have some big changes in mind?"

 

The question calmed Roland's brow, which relaxed once more. "I'll send you my manifesto via email, I have some big ideas about cleaning up this city – god knows under the current leadership this place is getting worse by the day," He gestured with his head to a portly man stood in the crowd with a bald head and thick spectacles. I knew him as Mayor Charles Chesterfield. Chesterfield was a pretty level-headed Mayor, lacking the dramatic flair of his predecessor, Wilson Klass, who was the mayor responsible for lifting most of the city's anti-vigilante policies to allow Batman as much freedom as possible.

 

"You think so?" Harvey contested, "The crime stats are at an all-time low, hell it's not even just Batman and Robin that are stopping these criminals anymore – there's even a Bat-girl now, and the name Nightwing has crossed my desk more than a few times in the past couple of months."

 

"Yeah so there's a couple of new nutballs running on rooftops and causing havoc to 'save' the hapless citizens of our fair city – so what?" Roland growled, "You mark my words – by the end of the year we'll be way worse off than when we started."

 

"I don't think calling the citizens of Gotham hapless is going to do much for the campaign," I retorted. Harvey laughed out loud and drunkenly slammed his fist on the table.

 

Roland turned to face me for the first time since he'd sat down and said, "And you are?"

 

"This is Dick Grayson," Bruce interjected defensively.

 

"Oh of course… the circus boy you graciously allowed into your home," He groaned. Something about the way he said that made my blood boil, I wasn't sure how such a pompous ass could be Melissa's father – make no wonder he was remarrying, her mother probably had the good sense to run away. "You know," He continued, I'd have thought someone with your background would be grateful to even be sitting at this table, never mind mixing unrestrictedly with the elite of Gotham."

 

"If you're the elite," I said, looking him up and down mockingly, "I'd hate to see what ranks lower on the social scale."

 

Roland's face was an aggressive shade of purple, and all facade of politeness had been dropped, "Listen here, you putrid little -"

 

Bruce stood up from his chair and said calmly, "That's enough."

 

Something about Bruce seemed to make Roland very nervous. He straightened his suit jacket and nodded respectfully as his face returned to a more human shade.

 

"Well if there's nothing else," Harvey said, breaking the tension,"I'll be making my way to the bar, coming Dick?"

 

"Sure, someone's gotta stop you from falling on your ass," I laughed, "You joining us, Bruce."

 

"I'll catch you up," Bruce said, nodding his head to me as I stood from the table.

 

Harvey and I headed for the bar "Don't take anything Roland says to heart, there's a medical term for people like him."

 

"Oh yeah?"

 

"Yeah – he's an asshole" Harvey chortled.

 

"Well, that much is obvious," I said, chuckling.

 

"I saw you talking to a girl earlier, what was that about?" Harvey asked.

 

"She's a friend from college," I explained, casually, as we stopped and sat down at the bar.

 

"She looked a little too pissed at you to be just a friend," Harvey said with a knowing smirk, "She also looked a lot like Roland Daggett's daughter..."

 

"You know her?" I asked, avoiding the former of his statements.

 

"She usually comes to these things with her father," He explained, "So, you and she, are you dating?"

 

"Not exactly, we're going on a date," I told him, "Although after meeting her father, I'm having second thoughts."

 

"Don't let that brute freak you out, his bark is worse than his bite, I assure you."

 

A man sat next to me got up, but left behind his newspaper, which happened to be open on a page that presented itself as a glowing opportunity. I slid the paper over and pointed to a story, "You know this guy?" I asked Harvey, casually gesturing to the picture of Stan which sat under the headline 'Local Businessman Arrested in Murder Case'.

 

"Long Island Ice Tea, and a Coke for the kid," Harvey said to the barman, before turning to see what I was talking about. He examined the story and nodded, "Yeah, Stan Elrod, our office has been after him for years. Why do you ask?"

 

"Oh nothing, just curious," I said, trying to sound as casual as possible, "How come you've never managed to put him away?"

 

"Nothing ever sticks, he's too well connected. I heard rumours that there was some deep cover operation trying to bring him in. But if they've arrested him for that, I'd say the op failed. Even if they have any physical evidence, I'm sure Finch will find a way of losing it."

 

"Finch?" I asked. Harvey was a talkative drunk.

 

"Carl Finch, he works in our office," He leaned in close to me and began to whisper, "Between you and me, he's as corrupt as they come, especially when it comes to Elrod and his associates. We all think they have something over him, but Finch covers his tracks too well to ever get caught out."

 

It took its time, but Harvey had finally given me a name to work from, Carl Finch. All I needed to do was find out what Stan had over Finch, if it were just that he was buying him off then a little fear would put a stop to that.

 

That still didn't solve my problem regarding finding this hidden brothel though. But I could at least take this information to Detective Yin, and see if she had any leads I could follow up on.

 

"Hey look," Harvey said, slurring slightly, "Bruce is talking to Andrea Beaumont." He pointed vaguely into the middle of the room where, sure enough, Bruce was chatting to the host of the event.

 

"So?" I said, shrugging my shoulders.

 

"They dated in college, it did not end well," Harvey explained.

 

"I'm sure she's over it by now."

 

"Maybe, but she's got quite the fiery temper," He warned.

 

"Speaking from experience?" I asked.

 

"Oh yeah," He nodded "We went on a date once, I must have said the wrong thing 'cause I ended up alone with the bill and covered in white wine."

 

"Should I go save him?"

 

"No, better leave the heroics to the pros," Harvey said, patting me on the chest, "Plus, looks like your friend from college is coming over."

 

Harvey got up and headed for Bruce and Andrea, staggering slightly on his way.

 

Melissa approached me and gestured theatrically to her dress, "Good as new," She said, sitting in Harvey's empty chair.

 

"Thank god, it looks expensive, thought I was gonna have to buy you a replacement," I joked.

 

"You got lucky this time. How are you enjoying the party?" Melissa asked.

 

"It's OK, plenty to do I guess. I met your father actually..."

 

"I saw him sat with you and Mr Wayne, I hope he was nice."

 

"Oh he was an absolute delight," I said sarcastically, "He'll certainly be getting my vote in the next election."

 

"He told you about that, huh," She said, "It's all I've heard about for the last two months, he's even postponing his wedding for the campaign."

 

"Bet his fiancee was happy about that," I laughed.

 

"She's pretty understanding actually, she knows well enough that when daddy gets an idea in his head, he can't be stopped."

 

"Daddy?" I snorted.

 

"Shut up, Grayson," She said, pushing me playfully, "How about a trial run before our date?"

 

I scowled in confusion.

 

"The auction is starting, maybe we can bid on something pretty," She said "Or a nice pillow for you to sleep on in class?"

 

I rolled my eyes.

 

Melissa linked arms with me and pulled me off my barstool, "Come on," She said, "It'll be fun!"

 

Having gotten everything I could out of Harvey, and deciding that Dick Grayson deserved a break, I nodded and allowed myself to be dragged off into the crowd.


	8. Ten Feet High And Rising

I sat cross-legged on the rooftop of the apartment building downtown where I'd met the Spoiler. If my calculations were correct, she was due up there any minute to start her 'training'.

 

Sure enough, she appeared a few rooftops away from me, ready to start her run. I dropped behind a roof vent so as not to break her concentration.

 

The amateur crime-fighter bolted to the edge of the first rooftop, clearing it with ease. The second was no challenge to Spoiler either. The third was where she'd had trouble in the past – I was ready to leap out and catch her if necessary.

 

The girl let out a grunt as she sprung across the large gap in the rooftops, to her credit she'd apparently been training a lot – landing on the roof with room to spare.

 

"Yes!" She exclaimed, pumping her fist in the air.

 

"Impressive," I said, genuinely, as I revealed myself to her.

 

"You again," She said glumly "Come to tell me off some more?"

 

"Not tonight, I was serious when I said you could use some training."

 

"Wait, so you're here to train me?" She said, her tone of voice shifting to a much happier one.

 

"If you think you're up to it?" I said.

 

"Hell yeah, where do we start? Kicking some bad-guy ass?"

 

"No, you're not even close to that yet."

 

"Hey, I can fight" She boasted.

 

"That might be true, but right now we're gonna practice some things you're clearly lacking. Stealth and balance, for one."

 

"Stealth? I can be sneaky – you didn't know I followed you the other night," She said, folding her arms defiantly.

 

"Turning up half an hour after me when you knew where I was going is hardly following me."

 

"Fine. Where are we going?"

 

"Before we go anywhere, put these on," I threw her a bag which I'd packed with gear for her to use. She pulled it open and started unpacking the equipment: kneepads, elbow-pads, protective vest and a grapple gun "You can keep the pads, but I'm not leaving you with that grapple gun."

 

"Cool!" She exclaimed.

 

We got to the warehousing sector of Bleake Island half an hour later, we may have been quicker had I not needed to carry Spoiler on my shoulders when we grappled over long distances… She didn't appreciate that, but I couldn't just let her lose with a grapple and no training "I'm eighteen you know; I don't need to be carried like a toddler," She complained as she dropped from my back on to the metal roof of the Lexcorp warehouse.

 

"So you're eighteen, and you're annoying, that is literally all I know about you so far," I said.

 

"Annoying? Pfft, says you" She snarled back.

 

"Don't get cocky, I'll leave you up here."

 

"You wouldn't dare."

 

"Don't tempt me, kid."

 

"Kid?" She spat "We're practically the same age!"

 

"No, we aren't, I'm thirty-seven" I declared, jokingly.

 

"You look like you're twenty, at the most," She had a good eye, I had to give her that. "So what are we doing here anyway?"

 

"We're training," I smiled, "You see that crane over there?" I pointed to a giant red crane which reached way up into the sky. It was being used to construct a couple of new warehouses.

 

"Oh god, you want me to climb it don't you" She gulped.

 

"Yep" I grinned.

 

"Forget it. I'm done."

 

"Thought you wanted to be trained?" I asked, folding my arms and looking down at her patronisingly.

 

"To beat up bad guys, not to bungee jump off cranes. I'm not looking to be on 'World's Dumbest Home Videos'" Spoiler replied.

 

"Hey that's not a bad idea, I could film you and I might even win $250!" I said sarcastically.

 

"Oh be quiet," She spat, looking nervously at the top of the crane.

 

"Not a fan of heights huh?" I asked in a softer tone.

 

"Heights aren't the issue here; it's falling from the heights that worries me."

 

"We're going up the ladder the first time, don't worry about it," I explained.

 

"If I do this, will you definitely let me fight some bad guys?"

 

"Depends..."

 

"On what?"

 

"Well, you can't help me fight crime if you fall to your death," I said with a smile as I started pacing to the edge of the roof.

 

"You jerk! Hey, wait up!" She shouted, running after me.

 

Once again with Spoiler around my waist, I hopped off the building and Approaching the base of the crane, Spoiler started to realise it looked much bigger up close.

 

"You're going first" I commanded, pointing at the ladder.

 

She tilted her head as she looked at me, "What, so you can watch my ass as I climb? Pervert"

 

"No?! So I can catch you if you fall," I exclaimed.

 

She started laughing, "I'm kidding you loser – let's do this."

 

We began to scale the crane, even using the ladder could be unnerving for a first-timer, but she was doing OK.

 

My young apprentice stopped abruptly when we were about halfway up.

 

"What's the matter?" I asked.

 

"Nothing," She exhaled loudly, "Just taking a second."

 

We continued to climb, reaching the top in a matter of minutes.

 

"See, that wasn't so bad," I said to her, she was sat on the floor – unable to stand.

 

"Can we go down now?" She whimpered, peering over the edge.

 

"Not yet, that was only part one."

 

"Shit, what's part two?"

 

"Allow me to demonstrate" I hopped out on to the long arm of the crane and began to move out to the far end. Being up this high was enough to make anyone go crazy, I remembered there being a time when I would have done the same – granted I was probably five years old.

 

My parents were always in the back of my mind, but heights really brought them to the forefront… I could almost see them sometimes, spurring me on like they had when I was little.

 

"Are you crazy?! I'm not doing that!" Spoiler shouted to me.

 

"In that case, training's over – I trust you can find your own way down?" I said.

 

"Wait, wait, wait – will you catch me?" She asked, I could hear the fear in her voice, but there was an element of courage there too. Her determination reminded me of Jason.

 

I walked back to her, she was standing up now, clutching the metal railing.

 

"I'm not going to catch you…" I told her.

 

"Screw you!" She cursed. I smiled at her as I clipped a wire harness to the back of her vest and on to the railing.

 

"Feel better now?"

 

"Sorry…" She apologised, "Can we just get this over with?"

 

"Sure, I'll meet you out there."

 

I went back out to the end, this time on the very top beam of the crane. I was showing off, there was no doubt about that.

 

Spoiler quivered as she took her first steps on to the gangway. I could just about hear her whispering to herself. I imagined she was giving herself encouragement, I stayed silent in the hope that she could motivate herself enough to get to me.

 

She managed to get a quarter of the way out before taking a breather.

 

"I'm good!" She shouted before I could ask.

 

With a deep breath, she moved again slowly, holding on to the beams as she put one foot in front of the other like a baby that had just learned to walk. I started to get the feeling that Spoiler's eyes may have been closed as her strides were getting clumsier.

 

There was a loud squeak, which confirmed my suspicions, as her boot slipped on the metal, "Shit!" She was clutching the beam as one foot hung in the air.

 

"Do you need me to come help? You've done well so far," I asked, concerned.

 

"No, I can do this!" Spoiler's foot re-joined her other foot, and she regained her balance. The last few metres were the easiest for her, her confidence had almost tripled from one end of the crane to the other "That was amazing, like, really amazing!"

 

"I'm going to unhook you now" I explained.

 

"Say what now?" She quivered, shifting defensively.

 

Without another word I pulled the harness from her vest and pressed a button which unhooked the other end and reeled the whole thing back together.

 

"You bastard, this is so not fair!" She screamed, "You can't just take away my safety net like that!"

 

"Well that's how they did it with me" I retorted, thinking once again of my days in the circus.

 

"They?" Spoiler asked.

 

"Never mind, grab on to my waist."

 

"No way, I'm not letting go of the crane until you hook me back up," She stubbornly stated.

 

"OK, see you later," I said with a sarcastic wave goodbye.

 

"Oh my god stop doing that!" She shouted before reaching out and clutching my waist for dear life.

 

"Right, now stand up a little more so I can get my arm around you properly" She did as I asked, I had her comfortably under my arm. There was a loud clink as I attached my grapple to the end of the crane.

 

"Wait, what are you doing?!" She panicked "Don't you dare, don't you fricking dare!"

 

With the girl in one hand and my grapple in the other, I leapt backwards off the end of the crane. We hurtled feet first toward the ground, "Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit!" Spoiler screeched as we dropped, nothing beneath us but air and eventually concrete.

 

We slowed almost to a halt before we even reached the ground, Spoiler sounded like she might have been having a panic attack. Her breathing was erratic, and her whole body was shaking. Once she realised her feet were back on solid ground, she proceeded to attack me.

 

"You asshole!" She shouted, throwing a punch to the face which I caught immediately in my hand.

 

"What are you complaining about?" I questioned, "You did great."

 

Her mood seemed to settle again as I released her hand, "I was pretty good wasn't I?"

 

"Don't get cocky."

 

"Sorry, boss" she stood to attention and gave me a faux salute.

 

"Alright, let's get you home."

 

"Can't we go again?" Spoiler said.

 

"Not tonight, but I promise there'll be more training."

 

She nodded and walked with me to the foot of the Warehouse. Without being asked this time, she grabbed my waist as we zipped up on to its roof and began our slow journey back to the apartment building.

 

"That test," Spoiler began, "It wasn't about balance or stealth was it?"

 

"What makes you say that?" I asked.

 

"Well, I guess balance was necessary, but it was about fear, right?"

 

I smiled at her, nodding, "You catch on quick. Conquering fear, more specifically."

 

"Sure, that makes sense," She agreed.

 

***

 

My heart was racing at an unbelievable pace… This was it…

 

This was the culmination of all my efforts…

 

I'd finally made my decision…

 

This… This was the outfit I was going to wear for my date with Melissa. A pair of jeans and a button-up shirt – the classic combo.

 

I felt as though I should have been warming up or something, but instead I was just sat in front of the TV waiting for her father to drop her off. I could only hope she hadn't told him she was seeing the same guy that upset him at the casino opening, that would have made for an awkward conversation. And I didn't want there to be anything that could put her off before we'd had the chance to go out.

 

I'd decided to take Melissa for dinner and a movie, another classic combo. Unfortunately, she had refused to be a passenger on my motorcycle, so we were going to be taking a cab.

 

I scrolled through the Gotham Gazette website on my phone while I waited for Melissa to arrive, I'd gotten ready way too early. Sure enough, Gerty had written a trashy gossip article about the Casino opening party. The headline, if you could even call it that, was 'DA Dent Drinking Problem?' She'd clearly been spying on us… As the title suggested, she had analysed Harvey's actions on the night and deduced that he had a severe drinking problem. I was mentioned in the article as Harvey's 'junior drinking partner', and she voiced her opinion on him being a 'bad influence' on me, which was way better than it could have been.

 

I'd appeared in Gerty's column before and regardless of what the story was it always came back to my tragic past and how she could still 'see the pain in my eyes', what an irritating woman she was.

 

After an eternity of flipping through pointless news articles and egotistically watching unflattering clips of myself on YouTube, Melissa finally knocked at the door. She looked even more beautiful than she had done at the party, maybe that was because she was actually smiling at me.

 

"This is a first" She smiled.

 

"What, you greeting me with a smile?" I joked.

 

"No" She replied, "You're wearing pants."

 

We both laughed "Come on in" I stood to one side and gestured toward the couch.

 

"Thanks," Melissa said, walking in and taking a seat where she had on her previous visits.

 

"I've ordered the cab; it should be here soon – can I get you a drink?"

 

"Sure, what do you have?"

 

"Uhm, we could open a bottle of wine?" I suggested, shrugging.

 

"Sounds good to me."

 

I took over two small glasses of the red wine that had been gathering dust in my cupboard – I didn't even really like wine. Bruce was never much of a drinker, he would drink ginger ale at parties instead of champagne so that he was always alert – his aversion to alcohol was something I'd apparently picked up on. Don't get me wrong, I understood the appeal of a cold beer after a hard day at work… Or rather a night on patrol.

 

In spite of all that, I glugged the wine with a smile on my face... Maybe a little too fast.

 

"Slow down Grayson, I read about your problems in the Gazette" She laughed, sipping her wine in a refined way that made me feel like a bit of a pig for consuming mine so quickly.

 

"You read that, huh?" I responded.

 

"Yeah – Mr Dent is a bad influence on you."

 

"I'm easily influenced, what can I say."

 

"Clearly" She laughed mischievously, shuffling up close to me on the couch.

 

"Oh yeah?" I asked.

 

"Yup," She smiled, leaning in closer. I laughed and sweetly kissed her on her lower lip. Immediately her hands were pulling me into another passionate embrace.

 

I pulled away for a second.

 

"What's the matter?" She asked.

 

"Well…" I replied, "Isn't this the part where you run away?"

 

She lightly punched my shoulder, "You're so funny."

 

"I know" I smiled playfully.

 

"Come here, before I do run away" She grinned, pulling me in for another round.

 

***

 

We arrived at the restaurant over an hour later. I had to pay a small fine to the cab driver for keeping him waiting, Melissa and I had gotten carried away with our fooling around, and the poor guy had to actually come up to the apartment and knock on the door to get our attention.

 

The restaurant was a small Italian place in the city, Benito's. It wasn't the fanciest place in Gotham, but it was pretty low key, and we wouldn't bump into any paparazzi-types. I wasn't exactly ridiculously famous, but on a slow news day I was as attractive to the Gotham Gazette as one of those 'real housewives'.

 

"Ah Mr Grayson, come on in - we have a table reserved for you on the terrace," Said the waiter.

 

"Thanks very much," I smiled.

 

"The terrace?" Melissa whispered "Nice."

 

So far, so good, I thought to myself.

 

The terrace was lit with fairy lights, and there was only one other couple out there. My date seemed very impressed as the waiter pulled out her chair to let her sit down.

 

"Well Grayson, I'm impressed," Melissa said, "I was half expecting you take me somewhere snobby."

 

"Oh yeah?" I replied.

 

"Well, I think people just assume that's what I'd be in to."

 

"Nah, who needs to be surrounded by all those fake people."

 

"Exactly! I can't think of anything worse than running into one of my father's friends or one of those annoying reporters. Like I know anything about my father's company and their stock prices, you know?" Melissa said.

 

"Tell me about it," I sighed, "I sometimes wonder if people think I work at Wayne Enterprises."

 

"Do you think you ever will?" Melissa asked.

 

"What do you mean?"

 

"Well, it's an option for you, right? The family business."

 

"I guess so, it just always seemed like the easy option, I wanna blaze my own trail if that makes sense?"

 

"It totally makes sense," Melissa said, her smile was one of mutual understanding, "My dad would love it if I just took a high-level admin position at the company."

 

"Why major in Criminal Psychology, seems like quite the departure?" I asked.

 

"I was going to ask you the same thing," She laughed. The waiter approached again and handed us some menus, Melissa continued: "My mom is a psychiatrist, it's actually how she met my dad, all of her clients are big businessmen and women. She had all these books about the criminal mind and crimes throughout history, I guess it was just something she liked to read about in her spare time. When they were going through their divorce, she left them behind and I ended up reading them all, then buying some more. My interest just kind of spiralled from there. What about you?"

 

"Similar to your story really," I lied, "I watched some documentaries and just thought it was interesting."

 

Suddenly I felt my watch vibrate, that was never good.

 

"Sorry, I just gotta go to the bathroom," I lied again as I stood up.

 

"OK, should I order you a drink?" Melissa asked.

 

"Uhm, no, I'm not sure what I want yet," I said uncomfortably.

 

"Alright..." Melissa replied, squinting suspiciously.

 

I rushed into the bathroom and checked to make sure it was empty before locking myself in the first toilet stall. I ran my thumbprint across the face of my watch, Alfred's visage appeared on the front of the watch.

 

"Master Dick, I hope I'm not interrupting," Alfred said.

 

"Uhm, kind of," I replied uncomfortably, "What is it, Alf?"

 

"Master Bruce needs your help," He explained.

 

"Can it wait, I'm in the middle of something?" I sighed.

 

"I'm afraid it cannot wait, sir."

 

"What's going on?" As I asked, the screen switched to Gotham News.

 

A female reporter was stood with a microphone outside of Arkham Asylum. "Yes Tom," She answered what I assumed was the anchorman in the studio, "It appears that Mr Freeze is leading a mass breakout - and now patients are running loose in the asylum and the surrounding grounds..."

 

Cutting back to Tom in the studio he asked: "Do we know if the guards are in control of the situation?"

 

The reporter replied, "It's unclear, but as you can see behind me, Commissioner Gordon is personally leading a team who are currently surrounding the facility and -"

 

BOOM! An explosion blew an enormous hole in the upper floor of the Asylum. Debris caught the cameraman, and his camera hit the floor. The image had tilted ninety degrees, and voices could be heard screaming.

 

Alfred appeared back on the screen "Well, Master Dick?"

 

"Dramatic presentation, Alf. Tell Bruce I'm on my way," I sighed.

 

I darted out of the bathroom into the central area of the restaurant, I could see Melissa on the terrace looking out at the view with a smile... But I didn't have time to make an excuse, the TV above the bar showed that a gunfight had broken out at the Asylum - I was going to have to leave her there, yet another personal sacrifice for the greater good.


	9. Institutionalised

The Heads Up Display in my mask said that Arkham was only two kilometres from my position. I sped through the streets on my Wingcycle, weaving in and out of traffic at breakneck speed.

 

How could this have happened? Freeze was locked in large glass refrigerator with a titanium door - the only way out was with a key, and even then, Freeze was on the side of the door without a handle.

 

This wasn't the first Arkham breakout, the Joker had caused a similar scene in the not-so-distant past. Luckily for us, the Joker was dead, but that didn't mean the patients at Arkham were going to be easy to detain.

 

"Barbara, what's the situation?" I asked over my headset.

 

"It's not good, Batman went inside, and we've lost communication - something's blocking signals in and out," Batgirl replied immediately.

 

"What about you? Where are you?" I said.

 

"Freeze got out before the police got there, I'm tracking him down," she explained.

 

"Can you handle him alone?"

 

"Don't you worry about me. Besides, I'm in the Batmobile"

 

"If you say so, be safe."

 

"You too, don't go getting yourself shot - again."

 

"Hilarious, I'm coming up on the Asylum now - over and out!"

 

I screeched up behind a patrol car that was being used as cover outside the main gate to the Asylum. The air was ringing with the sound of gunfire and the whizzing of bullets, the patients, had overrun the guards and taken their weapons - using them to fire on the cops. Several ambulances were back from the firing line, treating wounded officers, staff and patients alike.

 

Dismounting the Wingcycle, I leapt into cover with a couple of the officers "Where's Gordon?" I shouted.

 

"Over by the SWAT van!" The nearest Officer responded, pointing to the SWAT van in the courtyard near the main entrance to the building - I couldn't see him from where I was.

 

"Thanks! What about Batman?" I continued.

 

"I didn't see him, but I heard he's inside!" The Officer replied.

 

Without another word, I slid over the hood of the patrol car and rolled behind a parked sedan that had been shredded by bullets. Luckily for me, there were plenty of vehicles to duck behind as I made my way closer to Gordon's location. I unholstered my escrima sticks as I approached the danger - men in orange jumpsuits were hiding on the other side of the car I was using for cover.

 

In the noise and commotion, I yanked open the door nearest to me on the car - sliding feet first across the back seats. Bringing my knees up to my chest I readied myself for my next move. With a swift explosion of power, I smashed open the door on the other side of the car with my legs, knocking two of the three men flying backwards.

 

"What the - ?" The other exclaimed as I emerged speedily from the vehicle. He raised his fists to attack me, but a rapid kick to his forearm careered his fist into his own face, knocking him unconscious.

 

Without taking a breath, I charged into the two patients that were recovering from my first attack. One of them crashed head-first into the Asylum wall, but the other wasn't going down so easily, he started to pull himself to his feet - picking up a shard of broken glass as he did. It wasn't until he lifted his head up that I recognised him, his scarred face was unforgettable.

 

"Zsasz..." I thought out loud, this guy had caused me some severe problems in the past.

 

I'd first encountered him in my days as Robin, a frightening glimpse into the real brutality of the Gotham Underworld. Initially, he'd been a hitman for the mob, but slowly he became too much even for the Falcones to control. We managed to finally get him into Arkham after the murder of Carl Beaumont, he was caught by Batman not too far from the scene.

 

"Nightwing! I think I got a clean patch o' skin behind my ear where I can carve a mark just for you!" Zsasz laughed, as he ran his tongue up the piece of broken glass.

 

It became immediately apparent that this was a distraction technique as he sharply broke out into a frenzy of attempts to slash me. I avoided each swipe with matrix-like movements. Unfortunately, it appeared I was not quite Neo after all, as he backed me into the corner where the main building met the outside wall. I quickly lashed out with an escrima stick, smashing the shard of glass. Zsasz proceeded to kick me in the gut while I was off guard, following with a bone-crushing strike to my jaw which knocked me on to my side.

 

The officers in the distance must have been watching our fight because as soon as I hit the ground, they started taking shots at Zsasz. A bullet grazed the top of his head as he dropped to the ground.

 

"Ouch," He laughed as he reached to the top of his head to feel the wound. Licking the blood from his fingertips, he began to crawl towards me on his hands and knees. Still in a daze from the rock-hard fist I'd taken to the face, I grabbed for an escrima stick. I didn't have time to hit him with it. Zsasz pushed me onto my back and grabbed me by the throat with both hands, squeezing hard, "I prefer to use a knife but, I guess this could be fun," He chuckled.

 

"Don't I get... Any last words," I gargled, using one hand to clear my airway a little.

 

"Heh heh, sure," He laughed victoriously, releasing his grip slightly.

 

"Bzzt," I said, forcing a sinister smile.

 

"Huh?" Zsasz responded, raising his forehead where his right eyebrow used to be.

 

"Bzzzt," I said again, smiling even more widely.

 

"What are you -" I jammed my escrima stick into the side of his neck, delivering a high-voltage shock which flung the psychopathic serial killer off me and onto the floor. I followed with a very precise hit to his forehead which rendered him unconscious.

 

I wasn't leaving Zsasz to wake up and escape, so I tied him securely to one of the parked cars and made my way to the SWAT van. Dodging bullets and knocking out escapees as I went, I arrived at the truck in no time at all.

 

No officers were using it as cover so they must have been inside. "Gordon! Open up!" I hit my fist on the doors at the back of the van, "It's Nightwing!"

 

No answer. I hit it again a few times to no avail. I pulled open the door to find the van empty with one sizeable bloody handprint on the inside of the door.

 

This did not look good.

 

After incapacitating the majority of escaped patients in the courtyard the police and SWAT teams moved closer to the entrance and formed a perimeter around it.

 

"We've secured the perimeter, Captain!" I heard one of the officers shout.

 

"How are we doing with the escapees?" The commanding officer responded as she signalled some of her men to fall back.

 

"We've managed to round a few of them up, but until we've secured the facility, we can't know for certain who or how many got away."

 

"And how many men did we... lose?" The Captain asked with a quiver in her voice.

 

"Five dead mam, unknown how many injured and we have at least three who are critical."

 

"God damn it, I don't want any further casualties," She snarled "Nightwing, how's your boy doing in there?" I didn't even know she knew I was there.

 

"No idea captain, I've had no contact" I responded, shaking my head.

 

"What's your next move?" She asked, somewhat aggressively.

 

"I'm going in, I wouldn't recommend following me."

 

"Well, I don't answer to you," She snarled, then hesitated for a second "That being said, I don't want to lose any more men in there... So I'm willing to give you fifteen minutes."

 

"Make it twenty!" I shouted as I made my way towards the front door.

 

The hallways of the Asylum echoed with manic screams, some I recognised as people we'd put away a long time ago - people I never thought I'd have to face again. The lights were flickering in the hall and buzzing eerily, I crept closer to the noise - escrima sticks in hand, alert and ready.

 

The processing booth that separated the main entrance halls and the cells had been frozen and shattered, leaving nothing standing between the patients and the staff. Assuming that Freeze had opened the cells from the central control panel, the patients would have overrun the team in minutes.

 

Passing over the icy threshold, I saw the half-frozen corpse of an orderly, his face was locked in a perpetual scream - poor guy. The man was just living his life, maybe working to feed his family. Stuff like that went through my mind a lot in these situations, the dead officers outside were just doing their jobs... And they died for it. Which, I tell myself, is why we do what we do.

 

Unfortunately for me, thoughts like that were distracting - which is how I ended up getting sucker punched in the head. Luckily the punch was reasonably ineffective, which allowed me to react quickly - grabbing the would-be assailant by his wrists in a spinning motion and pinning him against the cold wall.

 

"Holy shit, Nightwing - I'm so sorry!" Said the guard, that had wrongfully assaulted me.

 

"Yeah thanks for that," I responded, letting go of his hands "Guess I'm just lucky you didn't have a gun."

 

"Nah, that crazy blonde took it off me," He told me.

 

"Crazy blonde?" I asked, already knowing exactly who he was referring to but hoping against hope that her cell door had malfunctioned.

 

"Yeah, Quinzell or whatever her name is - the Joker's broad."

 

"Harley Quinn," I growled, even the thought of her made my blood boil. Her involvement in what the Joker did to Jason was something I could never forgive.

 

"What's your name?" I asked the guard.

 

"Joe," He smiled, nervously.

 

"Pleased to meet you, Joe, punch notwithstanding."

 

"Yeah, again, sorry 'bout that," Joe said.

 

"Forget about it," I said, peering over his shoulder and around us to make sure no one was using our conversation as an excuse to launch a sneak attack, "You wouldn't happen to know where Batman is, would you?"

 

"Last I saw he was kickin' ass in the cafeteria," Joe explained, starting to walk away, signalling me to follow, "It's this way!"

 

I gave chase and called after the eager security guard, "Joe, you gotta get out of here you don't even have a gun."

 

"Neither do you, I ain't lettin' you get ambushed - it wouldn't be right."

 

"Yeah but, Joe..." I pointed at my suit.

 

"You got a uniform, so do I," He said stubbornly.

 

"Fine..." I sighed, "Have you seen the Police Commissioner around here anywhere?"

 

"Gordon?"

 

"Yeah."

 

"Nah he didn't pass by me, but I was upstairs when all this went down."

 

We came to a fork in the corridor, Joe began to go right. BAM! The door directly in front of me burst open, from it emerged a jumpsuit-clad man with a mess of black hair and a long beard who lunged at me immediately. Swiftly I bashed my escrima sticks on the sides of his neck, delivering a small electric pulse to his head and knocking him straight out.

 

"Easy peasy," I smirked, looking up at Joe. His eyes were wider than I'd ever seen them, he raised his finger and pointed over my shoulder. I could suddenly feel the floor shaking. I turned around quickly - only to see a screaming horde of escaped patients running towards us, too many for me to handle.

 

"Run!" I shouted to Joe. We sped to the end of the long corridor and through a pair of double doors. Slamming the doors shut behind us, we each grabbed one end of a bench and slung it in front of it to act as a barricade.

 

"How far to the cafeteria?" I asked, regaining my breath.

 

"Uhm, we're here," Joe stated, pointing at the food counter and the overturned tables that filled the empty room.

 

"Then where the hell is Batman?" I asked, looking from side to side.

 

"Beats me, this room was full of people fightin'," He told me, sniffing at the air as he did, "Does it smell weird in here to you?"

 

"You're the one that works here, you tell me," I said with a shrug.

 

I sighed and stretched my neck back to look up at the ceiling. I had to blink a few times to comprehend what I was looking at.

 

The ceiling was overgrown with vines, intermingled into those vines were around thirteen people - a mix of orderlies, patients... and Batman. In the centre, lying naked surrounded by flowers and vines with her red hair spread and flowing over her green skin as if she were defying gravity - Poison Ivy.

 

"Well hello there, boys," She greeted us seductively.

 

"Don't look at her Joe," I snapped immediately.

 

"What, I ain't no pervert," He replied, " I got a wife."

 

"It's not that, she can have an... effect on men," I explained.

 

"Oh... right..." Joe replied, his eyes now fixed on Ivy.

 

"What did you do to them, Ivy?" I asked, gesturing to the people on the ceiling.

 

"They're just sleeping, for now," She responded, smiling, "Care to join us?"

 

"No thanks. Why didn't you escape with the rest of them?" I raised my arms, pointing out the vines, "You've clearly learned some useful new tricks."

 

"Oh, this? This wasn't me" She claimed.

 

"Huh?"

 

"It was Mother Nature," She explained.

 

"Oh..." I rolled my eyes.

 

"I didn't leave with the rest of the apes, because I'm not stupid," Ivy said.

 

"Clearly"

 

There was a loud banging at the door that we'd entered through - unbeknownst to myself and Joe, vines had grown over the door which was stopping the horde from getting in. "Joe..." I began, "Is there another way out of here?"

 

"Sure, through the kitchen" He replied.

 

"Go there, now!" I commanded, "Get out of here."

 

"I can't leave you here!" Joe exclaimed gallantly.

 

"You're not leaving me here, I have backup," I smiled.

 

"Batman? He looks a little out of it to me," He responded, pointing at my unconscious mentor who was hanging from the ceiling.

 

"Not him, now run!" I shouted.

 

"Who?" Joe asked, still not moving toward the kitchen.

 

"Them!" A vine reached from the ceiling in a grabbing motion, aiming for my legs. Rolling backwards to avoid the plant-claw, I pulled a miniature explosive from my utility belt and launched it at the cafeteria door.

 

"Gotcha!" Joe exclaimed as he sped into the kitchen, ducking to avoid a swinging plant before disappearing out of site.

 

Another vine caught my arm and began pulling me toward Ivy. Patients spilt into the room screaming in frenzied rage immediately trying to attack the plants on the ceiling with chairs and anything they could get their hands on, Ivy's vines attempted to capture them - but as I suspected, she was becoming overwhelmed.

 

Her face was growing angrier "How dare you!" She shouted at them, "You filthy apes, you dare to challenge Mother Nature?"

 

The vines were constricting around my waist tightly as she became increasingly angrier. But luckily for me, the distraction of the rowdy mental patients had stopped her from administering the toxin that had rendered my other captive compatriots unconscious. Ivy had brought me in very close to her, so close that I could smell the pollen seeping from her chlorophyll skin.

 

This would have typically been the part where I'd give her a good zap with the escrima sticks and drag her to ground level. Sadly, I had dropped them while I was blowing open the door and getting pulled into the air. I felt a nudge in my side, one of the captives was waking up.

 

"Well, that was a great nap!" Called out a familiar voice "Nightwing? Well hey there puddin' when did you join the party?" It was Harley Quinn... I hadn't noticed her up there. But for once her loudness wasn't unwelcome, it meant the toxin was wearing off.

 

"Hey, Nightwing - I'm talkin' to you!" The pigtailed blonde maniac screeched in my ear.

 

"Shut up Harley, I don't have time for any of your crap this evening. I'm a little preoccupied if you hadn't noticed," I said, squirming to loosen the vine that was slowly beginning to crush me.

 

"Oh puddin' that was so rude! When I get outta here I'm gonna tell Mr J. you said that!" She gleefully threatened.

 

Her words took me a little by surprise, "My god, they didn't tell you did they?"

 

"Tell me what?" She scowled.

 

"The Joker is dead."

 

"Ha ha, you're a liar!" She laughed.

 

"You think? Read a newspaper once in a while - the Joker tried to trap us and blew himself to Kingdom Come."

 

"You... Are... Lying!" She screamed, "He said he was comin' for me!"

 

"You sure that wasn't the voices in your head?" I mocked.

 

"You'll see pretty boy, Mr J's comin' back and he's gonna -" A vine wrapped itself around her mouth, Ivy must have found her just as annoying as I did.

 

The rest of the plant-captives were starting to stir as Ivy's concentration broke further.

 

"Nightwing," Bruce's voice murmured in my earpiece "She caught me off guard."

 

"What happened to always minding your surroundings, huh Bats?" I whispered.

 

"Not the time, Nightwing," He growled, "She's nearly taken care of these guys, we need to move fast."

 

"What's your plan?" I asked.

 

"I'm going to cut myself free with a Batarang - can you do the same?"

 

"I think so," I squirmed and reached for my belt, "Got one."

 

"Alright, on three - cut loose. When you hit the ground, throw an explosive as close as you can to Ivy without hitting any of her prisoners," Batman said.

 

"Understood," I nodded.

 

"One," I took a deep breath, "Two", tightly squeezed the Batarang, "Three", I hacked at the large vine gripping around my waist. It gave way quickly and dropped me face first on the floor. Managing to break my fall with my hands, I initiated Bruce's plan.

 

With sharp flicks of the wrist, I launched two mini explosives into the air as Bruce did the same. A loud bang followed, sending the living plants into disarray.

 

"Bastards!" Ivy screeched as she fell from the ceiling along with the captives. She tried to flee the room, but Batman tripped her and caught her by the wrist.

 

"You're going back to your cell," He said, coldly.

 

The guards that were trapped on the ceiling began to help Bruce, and I round up the patients and cuff them. I made sure Harley was well restrained - although what I'd said appeared to have sent her into a state of complete panic.

 

"Nightwing, this way", Batman commanded, moving toward the kitchen, "We still have work to do."

 

"Aye aye, captain," I responded as we burst through the back door to the kitchen. We were immediately greeted by a pair of orange-clad enemies. Somersaulting into action I sprung into a roundhouse kick to the guy's jaw, sending him careering into the wall.

 

When I turned around, Batman's foe had already been dispatched, "We need to split up," He said, "Stay alert when I got here a few of the guards were in a state of hysteria."

 

"Well yeah, Mr Freeze broke out an entire hospital full of deranged mental patients" I responded.

 

"Drug-induced hysteria - similar to what we saw with Clancy Wolfman," He explained.

 

"Wait, you think it was the Scarecrow?"

 

"Yes."

 

"Makes sense I guess, Freeze was protecting the Vertigo shipment - still doesn't explain why they had to make such a ruckus getting him out though."

 

"My thoughts exactly" Batman nodded "We better split up, if he's still here we have to find him fast."

 

"Alright, I was looking for Gordon - I think he might be inside."

 

He nodded in response.

 

"Oh, and there might be a guard back here called Joe, can you keep an eye out for him too?"

 

He nodded again and darted off in the opposite direction to me.

 

The halls were quieter now, the police had started to move in and secure the facility. Since Batman and I split up, I hadn't seen anyone at all. Suddenly a voice popped into my earpiece "Nightwing," Batman started "I've found Joe, he was injured by an inmate - nothing serious."

 

"See Gordon?" I asked.

 

"No, I'm going to get Joe out of here - I'll meet up with you soon."

 

"Understood," The comm went dead.

 

Suddenly I heard a gunshot ring through the silent corridor. As anyone would do, I ran toward the sound of the gunfire. Three more shots rang out, followed by a loud scream of panic. "They're everywhere!" Shouted the voice, followed by two more gunshots and then the clicking sound of an empty ammo clip.

 

I turned a corner which led to a dead end, the only other exit was a door on the left-hand wall. Gordon ran towards me with his fist raised in the air "You bastard!" He screamed, I quickly looked over my shoulder, nope - no one there, he was coming at me.

 

His fist flew at my face, I dodged to the right and batted his arm downward "Jim, it's me!"

 

"You monster!" He screamed again, lunging at me "What have you done to my little girl!" I hopped backwards, he couldn't know who I was, the Scarecrow must have got him.

 

When he made his next swing, I tripped him up in an attempt to pacify him. Gordon stumbled right up to the end of the corridor past the door. As he tried to come at me again, the door burst open - just in time Bruce, I thought.

 

But the figure that emerged and grabbed Gordon by the throat was not Batman.

 

"Nightwing isn't it?" A deep raspy voice asked from behind the Scarecrow mask.

 

"That's right, you must be looking for the wizard right?" I said.

 

"Excuse me?" The Scarecrow rasped, tilting his head.

 

"You know... so that he can give you a brain? Say, where's the Tin Man and the Lion?"

 

"Amusing..." He responded, tightening his grip on Gordon's throat and pulling him in to use as a human shield.

 

"Let him go, there's nowhere for you to run," I commanded.

 

"Isn't there?" The Scarecrow smugly replied as if he knew something that I didn't.

 

"That's right, dead end."

 

"Well Nightwing, you've got me there," He admitted, "But, you have to make a choice."

 

"Oh yeah?"

 

"I gave the commissioner a weak dose," He said. Pulling his other arm up to Gordon's head, he sprayed a vapour into the cop's face.

 

"Jim!" I shouted.

 

"This dose is highly concentrated," The Scarecrow growled, Gordon began to scream and convulse "You have five minutes to treat him, or he will die" The maniac pushed Gordon towards me, "So what will it be? Save the commissioner, or chase the villain?"

 

The Scarecrow already knew my answer, I slung Gordon over my shoulder and charged for the exit - leaving my new foe to escape.

 

Jim Gordon had been part of my life as long as I could remember. When I started out as Robin, he was a police Lieutenant heading up the Major Crimes Unit over at GCPD. He was secretly working with Batman while leading the task force that was assigned to bring him in.

 

After weeding out a lot of the corruption in the force and the unfortunate murder of Commissioner Loeb, who by all accounts was as corrupt as they came, Gordon took the big job - exonerating Batman and I of our 'crimes' and all but declaring us an unofficial extension of the force by creating the bat signal.

 

A decent man who proved that standing up to corruption wasn't futile and that it was possible to be righteous and just in a city filled with criminals and crooked cops. A decent man who was about to die if I didn't do something about it.

 

"Batman!" I shouted into the comm link.

 

"What is it Nightwing?" He responded.

 

"It's Gordon." I panted, rushing down the winding corridors "He's been dosed with the Scarecrow's toxin!"

 

"Meet me at the main entrance," He commanded "Batgirl, come in."

 

"Hey, guys, what's up?" Barbara chimed in.

 

"It's - " I started.

 

"There's been an incident," Batman interrupted, "I need you to come back to Arkham, now - the antidote we synthesised for the vertigo toxin is in the Batmobile with you."

 

"Is everyone OK?" Barbara asked.

 

"They will be, as long as you get here fast," Batman stated.

 

"I'll be as quick as I can - out" A blip followed to signal that she could no longer hear us.

 

"Scarecrow said he only had five minutes," I told Bruce.

 

"Let's hope he was lying."

 

Bursting through into the main lobby I was greeted with gunfire. Immediately I dived into cover behind what was left of the reception desk, hurling Gordon over first with all of my bodily strength. "Hold your fire!" I shouted, putting my arms up from the desk.

 

"Lower your weapons, men," A gruff voice said, "He's with the cops."

 

"With the cops?" I questioned, "Then who are you?"

 

"That's need to know, and you don't," The man replied.

 

I lifted Gordon over my shoulders again and stood up with my hands raised. The men with guns were wearing black military gear, similar to SWAT officers, only their faces were covered with gas masks, and the labels on their body armour read 'ARGUS'.

 

"The guy on my back is the Police Commissioner, I need to get him some medical attention," I explained.

 

"We know who he is," Their leader responded, "Men, escort our masked friend to the door."

 

Two of the ARGUS agents ran over, helping me lift Gordon over the reception desk and over to the door, "Barbara!" Gordon screamed tearfully.

 

"What happened to him?" The commanding officer asked.

 

"It's some modified version of the Vertigo drug, creates intense panic and hysteria - be careful in there," I told him. He responded by tapping his gas mask and tilting his head.

 

Once out of the door, the ARGUS agents went back inside and closed the door. Batman dropped from the roof above me and slung one Gordon's arms over his shoulder as I held him from the other side.

 

"Batgirl is nearly here," Batman said as we moved towards the armour-plated ARGUS trucks that were now all over the main courtyard.

 

"Should I know who ARGUS is?" I asked.

 

"No," He replied.

 

"And are you going to tell me?"

 

"No."

 

"Awesome."

 

Medical staff ran out from behind one of the trucks with a gurney. "Bring the Commissioner over here!" One of them shouted. Batman and I obeyed and lowered Gordon on to the stretcher.

 

"Wait," Batman said as the paramedics began to wheel Gordon away "You can't help him, I need you to keep him here."

 

"This is the Commissioner of the Gotham Police Department, we have to get him to a hospital!" One of them responded, his voice quivering slightly.

 

"He stays here," Batman commanded, "Do what you can to keep him stabilised."

 

The paramedics reluctantly agreed, one of them holding Gordon down as they administered some kind of sedative.

 

"You sure about this?" I asked.

 

"Leslie ran a lot of tests, the serum we created was the only thing that came close to reversing the effects," Batman replied.

 

"I hope you're right about this, Bats."

 

The Batmobile roared up moments later. Gordon's condition had worsened, and he was suffering from some kind of seizure. Batgirl leapt from the car and sprinted over to us with a vial of liquid in her hand. She paused for a second with utter shock as she realised the patient she'd be using the serum on was her father. Her eyes pierced into my skull and then targetted Bruce for a split second before she put her full attention back on her father.

 

"It's going to be OK," She said, waving the paramedics to one side as she prepared the syringe.

 

His body was writhing, and she couldn't get hold of her father's arm. I ran over and pinned Jim down to the gurney by his shoulders, Barbara didn't even give me a glance. She hurriedly examined her father's arm before finding a suitable vein and jabbing the needle into it - her face was forcibly stern, holding back tears.

 

It took a few seconds for the drug to start taking effect, but Gordon's movements began to become less and less erratic. As his breathing started to normalise, the paramedics gave out sighs of relief and took over again, checking the commissioner's pulse, "He seems to be stabilising, but we really need to get him to a hospital to make sure," The medic told us. Batman nodded, and they carted him off to an ambulance.

 

Barbara turned to us both, "You should have told me it was him" she growled.

 

"Your emotions could have killed him," Batman coldly responded.

 

"He's my father," She snarled with a lowered voice, "You should have said something."

 

"I'm sorry," I started.

 

"Save it, I'm going home to get changed - Freeze is in the prisoner containment on the back of the Batmobile," She turned away and grappled on to a nearby rooftop.

 

"Leave her," Batman said "I'll see to Freeze, you find out if anyone else escaped"

 

He really could be cold at times, but I nodded anyway and made my way out to the cops. Stood amongst them with a blanket over his shoulders and a cup of coffee was Joe, the guard who had helped me find Batman "Joe," I called to him "You alright!"

 

"Just a few cuts n' bruises, nothing a big insurance payout won't fix!" He laughed.

 

"Good to hear," I smiled as I moved on toward another familiar face.

 

Detective Harvey Bullock was Jim Gordon's partner way-back-when, the years hadn't been as kind to him as they had to Jim - he looked quite a few years older than he should, and he hadn't been doing much to watch his weight.

 

"I hear you saved Gordon," He said, without a greeting.

 

"Kind of," I said, "Who do I speak to about getting a list of escapees."

 

"You might want to speak to one of those ARGUS guys about that"

 

"What, why?"

 

"They've completely taken over, look," He pointed to an ARGUS truck in the yard. The squad that I'd come across in the main entrance were escorting a handcuffed Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy to the back of the truck.

 

"What do they want with them?" I asked.

 

"Not a clue, but they ain't in the business of sharing their business if you get me."

 

"So I guess that means I'm gonna have to wait to find out who got away?"

 

"Yup," He shrugged.

 

I arrived at my apartment in the very early hours of the morning, entering through the roof. I prised myself from my body armour and dropped back on to the couch, I couldn't be bothered to make those few extra steps to the bedroom.

 

I turned on my cell phone again so that I could check the barrage of abuse that I'd received from Melissa. Thirteen missed calls from Melissa Daggett, not surprising. Following that was twenty-two missed calls from Emily, what the hell? One of the calls had only been moments before my arrival.

 

I immediately called her back, it can't have been anything good, "Hey Em, what's up?"

 

"Dick, you need to come to the hospital," She sniffled, her voice quivering.

 

"Emily, what is it, are you OK?"

 

"I'm fine... it's Nate... he's been shot."


	10. So Much I

Gotham General was where they brought my mother. After Tony Zucco sabotaged their act, my parents fell from the high wire and hit the ground without a safety net. Having read the medical report some years later, it seems my father hit the ground head first and died on impact. My mother by some miracle was actually still alive after the fall, they brought her to Gotham General, and I sat by her bedside with a police officer until she succumbed to her injuries and died.

 

That was the day that I was formally introduced to Bruce Wayne, he saw something in me that day which I guess reminded him of himself - and after what seemed like an eternity of legal proceedings, he adopted me. I sometimes wonder what would have happened if she'd made it... If she'd managed to pull through - what would our lives have been like?

 

Emily was waiting for me at the entrance to the hospital, looking really worse for wear, her hair was tied up in a messy bun, and her eyes were raw with her lack of sleep. The second I stepped out of the cab she ran towards me and broke into a flood of tears, tightly wrapping her arms around me. I hugged her back, and she looked up at me, "It's bad," she sniffled, "I heard a nurse saying they don't know if..." Before she could finish the sentence, she broke into a fit of tears.

 

Not knowing what to say I pulled her in closer and kissed her on the top of the head reassuringly.

 

"I'm sorry," I finally said, "I should have got here sooner."

 

She looked up at me and smiled, shaking her head sympathetically - I knew she didn't blame me, but I did... I was at Arkham when Nate was shot, I could have done more to keep everyone safe.

 

"Come on, let's go inside and see if we can find out what's going on," I suggested.

 

"They won't tell us anything," Emily replied, defeatedly, "We're not family."

 

"Is his mom not here?" I asked.

 

"She's the one that called me, she's out of town with her sister - she should be on the next flight back from Metropolis."

 

"How was she?"

 

"She's in pieces, all she could talk about was Nate's brother and how history was repeating itself. Her sister is coming with her to make sure she's OK on the flight."

 

"God, I never even thought about that," Nate's brother died in a gangland shooting, I could only imagine what his mother must have been going through, "Nate's strong though Em, if anyone could get through this..."

 

"I know dude, let's go inside," She said, smiling weakly.

 

I kept my arm around her as we walked through the main reception, Emily signalled which was to go. The two of us took a seat in the waiting area which wasn't far from where Nate was being operated on. "Will you be OK here for a few minutes?" I asked.

 

"What, why?" Emily responded.

 

"I know a doctor, she might be able to get us some more information," I explained, Emily's face lit up at the thought.

 

"Really? Hell yeah, go!" She exclaimed, the idea of having any information at all seemed to be a great comfort to her, having been kept in the dark for so many hours.

 

"Alright, and I'll get you a coffee too - you look like you could use one," I said.

 

"Thanks," Emily said, "Don't be too long, OK?"

 

"I won't."

 

After using a few interrogation techniques on one of the receptionists, I managed to locate Leslie Thompkins. I was told she would be on one of the emergency wards looking after the drunks and the none life-threateningly injured.

 

The hospital was a bit of a maze but eventually, I found her tending to a girl with an injured head. The girl had long wavy hair that was a sandy blonde colour, her T-shirt was blue with a Superman logo on it, perfectly complementing her denim hipster shorts and fishnet tights. It wasn't until Leslie stopped dabbing the graze on the girl's forehead and I saw her nose piercing that I realised it was the girl who Emily and I had seen fighting at college.

 

"Can I help you?" The girl asked, looking me up and down with a frown, her piercing emerald eyes looked like they could cut glass.

 

"I'm actually here to see Dr Thompkins," I said, smiling at Leslie who had turned to face me.

 

"Well, she's a little busy right now" The girl explained with a sarcastic smile. Something about her mannerisms was strangely familiar, but I couldn't quite figure out why.

 

"Stephanie, this won't take a minute," Leslie interjected, dabbing cotton wool on the girl's forehead. Stephanie flinched as the antiseptic touched the wound, "So you say you walked into a door?"

 

"Yep," The girl lied, blatantly without even really trying.

 

"You know, I get a lot of patients who walk into doors," The doctor told her "I know some people that you could talk to."

 

"Thanks, lady," Stephanie said, jumping to her feet, "But it ain't anything like that."

 

"Stephanie, wait..." Leslie called after Stephanie as she grabbed her jacket and stormed away, barging past me as she did.

 

"What a charming young woman," I joked.

 

"Yes, very strange, it's not the first time she's been in here either. I think she might be having trouble at home," Leslie said, scowling into the distance where Steph had disappeared. Turning to me she said: "How can I help you anyway, Richard? I'd have thought you'd be tucked up in bed after tonight's events."

 

"That's actually why I'm here," I told her "One of my friends was injured."

 

"Oh, the commissioner? He's doing quite well..." Leslie said, assuming I was referring to Gordon.

 

"No, another friend - Nate Duggan, he was an officer at the scene, he's still in surgery, but no one will tell us what's happening" I explained.

 

"Come, I'll see what I can find out for you," She said with a compassionate smile.

 

I returned to Emily about ten minutes later with a warm cup of coffee.

 

"Thanks," She said wearily as I handed her the steaming styrofoam cup. The first sip caused her to flinch sharply, it had been much hotter than she expected. I took the seat next to her and put my hand on hers. Emily's dark eyes glazed over as I looked at her, trying to keep my face as neutral as possible.

 

"So, I found out a few things," I began, "According to someone who was on the scene, Nate and his partner were part of a group that was ambushed by escaped inmates. They managed to fight them off and subdue them, which is why they were caught off guard. One of the patients had gotten hold of a pistol, which he used to kill two of the officers and injure Nate's partner. Nate took a shot to the leg and chest..."

 

"His chest!" Emily cried, her head dropping into her free hand, tears leaking out between her fingers.

 

"But," I continued, lifting up her head and wiping away the tears from her eye with my thumb, "Nate was wearing a vest and managed to shoot down the inmate."

 

Emily's face softened a little, "Thank god, does that mean he's gonna be alright? That nurse said he might not make it and..."

 

"His partner was hit four times, and Nate tried to patch him up and get him to an ambulance - but Nate..." I felt myself welling up, "Nate didn't see to his own wounds... And by the time he got to the ambulance he'd lost a lot of blood... They're doing everything they can, that's all I know"

 

"And what about his partner?" Emily asked, resolutely trying not to cry again.

 

I shook my head, I didn't have the heart to say the words out loud. Nate's partner was dead by the time they got to the ambulance.

 

Being Nightwing, I'd been faced with things like this on an almost weekly basis - but I'd always managed to keep my school-friends well away from it. They were two separate worlds that coexisted without even the remotest sign that they might cross over, and then suddenly they had collided... And I was helpless to stop it.

 

Time trudged on painfully slowly, by the time there was any news I had fallen asleep on the chair with Emily in my arms, I awoke to see Leslie standing above me wearing a large parka coat. "You should both go and get some rest," she said. I sat up and woke Emily with a careful nudge.

 

"Everything is fine with your friend, but he's going to be in surgery for a while," Leslie explained, "I'm driving home now so I can drop you both off."

 

"Thanks, Leslie but..." I started.

 

Leslie cut me off and said: "You won't be allowed to see him until his mother gets here, so why don't you rest up?"

 

I looked at Emily, and she nodded before asking: "Can I stay at your place?"

 

"Sure," I smiled, if she hadn't asked then I would have certainly offered - this wasn't a time when either of us was fit to be left alone.

 

"Thanks, dude," She said, wiping her eyes on her makeup stained sleeve as she had countless times that night.

 

"Well come on you two, I've asked to be kept in the loop with Nathan's condition, so I will keep you both informed," Leslie said, signalling for us to follow her.

 

Leslie drove us back to the apartment and did everything in her power to keep us as reassured as possible on the journey, it didn't work, but I appreciated the effort.

 

Waving goodbye to Leslie, I led Emily up to the apartment and opened the door. It might have just been the mood or the events of the evening, but the place felt much colder than usual. I turned on the lights and went over to the storage closet to get some blankets. My friend entered behind me and began to frown.

 

"What are you doing?" Emily asked.

 

"I was gonna crash on the couch and let you have the bed," I explained with a sympathetic smile.

 

"Dude, you can't leave me," Emily said with a sniff.

 

"I'll be right here, like three feet from the bedroom," I said, gesturing to the distance between the sofa and the bedroom door.

 

"Nuh uh, come on," She grabbed me by the hand and took me to the bedroom, "You're sleeping in sweatpants though - don't get any ideas."

 

"Ew, don't flatter yourself" I joked, taking off my shirt.

 

"Holy shit, what happened to your back!" She exclaimed, pointing at the enormous bruise that I'd completely forgotten about.

 

"Oh nothing, I fell down," I said weakly, I couldn't exactly tell her I'd been shot.

 

"You fell down? Whatever you say," She laughed, "I guess Melissa Daggett likes it rough."

 

I'd forgotten all about Melissa and how I'd just left her at the restaurant all alone.

 

"She'll be playing rough next time she sees me that's for sure," I sighed.

 

"Why's that?" Emily asked, sitting down at the end of the bed.

 

"I kinda wigged out on her tonight, we were on a date but I just sort of left her."

 

"Dude, your friend is hurt, I'm sure she'll understand."

 

"No, it was before that I..." I wasn't really sure what I'd intended to use as an excuse, but luckily Emily stopped me in my tracks.

 

"Look, we got bigger things to worry about - like I said, I'm sure she'll understand. I could talk to her for you?"

 

"I don't think that would be a great idea, she got pretty jealous the other day," I said.

 

"Of me?"

 

"Well, she thought we were an item or something."

 

"Ew, gross," She said, "No offence."

 

"Aren't you getting ready for bed?" I asked with an eye roll.

 

"Not with the light on you perv."

 

"Oh right" I got up and turned out the light. I could see Emily's silhouette standing up and undressing.

 

"Stop looking!" She shouted, throwing one of her shoes at me. It narrowly missed and hit the floor in front of me, prompting me to laugh mockingly.

 

"I was looking at the bed!" I insisted.

 

"Sure... Creeper," Emily snarled, jokingly.

 

I crawled under the sheets and got comfortable while Emily fiddled around taking off her jeans. She walked over to my closet "Is it cool if I borrow a Tee to sleep in?"

 

"Knock yourself out," I yawned.

 

She slipped on the T-shirt and climbed into my bed, I was facing away from her, but I felt her arm slide over me as she snuggled close. She sighed and said, "Thank you."

 

"For what?" I said, turning my head slightly in her direction.

 

"Being there tonight."

 

I turned over fully to face her, "Well where else would I be?"

 

"I know, and I know you love Nate as much as I do it's just..." She gulped, "I don't know if I'd have held it together if I didn't have you there."

 

"You going soft on me?" I joked.

 

She punched me lightly on the arm, "I'm serious, you're the flakiest guy in the world but... You're a good friend, and I guess with everything that's happening I just want you to know I appreciate you."

 

"Thanks, Em, I appreciate you too," I laughed.

 

"I'm trying to have a tender moment dude, don't laugh!" She snapped.

 

"Sorry, I know," I put my arm around her and kissed her on the forehead "Come on then, let's go to sleep - we'll see Nate before you know it."

 

Strangely, and in spite of everything that had gone on, for the first time in a while I drifted off right away without having to fight my thoughts.

 

Bang, bang, bang. Was I under attack? I sat up in bed sharply, awoken by the loud noise. As my eyes and ears adjusted, I realised it was a persistent knock at the door. Emily looked up at me, puzzled. The fractured light from the not-so-closed blinds was a good sign, it was morning at least.

 

"Are you gonna get that?" Emily yawned, rolling back over and demonstrating an amazing ability to fall back to sleep instantly. I jumped up out of bed and made my way to the door. The knocking continued as I drew closer, I was reasonably sure I wasn't going to like what was waiting for me when I opened it.

 

I was right, on the other side of the door stood my disgruntled date, Melissa. Her face was screwed up and harsh-looking as it had been when we'd first spoken in Crane's lesson, only much more ferocious.

 

Over the years, being a crime fighter, I had honed my senses to be ready for anything - but Melissa Daggett had apparently been trained to slap by the League of Assassins, because I didn't have time to react to the almighty strike she laid across my cheek, "Morning asshole," She spat venomously, barging in to my apartment.

 

"I can explain," I said, rubbing my cheek and frowning at how cliche I had just managed to sound.

 

"I don't get you, Grayson, you made all that effort to see me at the ball and tell me how you felt and then you take me to this amazing restaurant. Then you just ditch me without a word?" She shouted, "Do you understand how humiliating it is being told by a waiter that you ran out of the place? They felt so sorry for me I didn't even have to pay!"

 

"Something..."

 

"Came up?" She snarled, I didn't know what to say, "I thought so. Well thanks, Dick," Maybe I ought to start referring to myself as Richard...

 

"Uhm, sorry to interrupt but..." Emily said as she emerged from the bedroom dressed in my T-shirt which she'd clearly slept in, increasing the tension in the room by about a hundred and fifty percent.

 

"You have got to be kidding me," Melissa laughed, her eyes darting back and forth aggressively between myself and Emily.

 

"I..." I had literally never been as lost for words as I was in that moment. Melissa flicked her hair with the appropriate level of sass you'd expect for someone believing they'd just caught their partner cheating on them and stomped toward the apartment door.

 

"Wait!" Emily shouted.

 

"What!?" Melissa snapped, spinning back around.

 

"Look, this isn't what you think," Emily began "Dick left your date because of me."

 

"I gathered that much," She said, turning to me and snarling, "And you told me there was nothing to worry about with you two."

 

"No, I called him and made him leave because..." Emily paused for a second, "One of our best friends was shot at Arkham Asylum. If you don't believe me, his name is Nathan, and he'll be all over the news today."

 

Melissa's face dropped, and after a few seconds of contemplation, the tension that had filled the air began to disperse. Although not totally, I still felt like she might flip out and throw something at me.

 

"And..." Emily continued, "Dick let me stay here because I didn't want to be alone."

 

"I shouldn't have walked out like that," I stepped in "Emily called me while I was in the bathroom, and the siege was on TV when I came to tell you, and I guess it made me panic. I'm sorry; honestly, I am."

 

I caught a fleeting glance from Emily in my peripheral vision, she looked shocked about something.

 

"No... Well... Yeah, you should have probably said something but..." Melissa said, "Look, I... I'm just going to go, you guys obviously need your space."

 

"No, stay... Please," I said, half-heartedly.

 

"My dad is waiting outside, I need to tell him what's happened - he wanted to hurt you... A lot. He was lecturing me about how much of an obnoxious worm you are all the way here."

 

"Oh..."

 

"Look, I'll go and speak to him... But we need to talk, Grayson. Call me when... When it's more appropriate," She smiled weakly and looked at Emily, "I'm... Sorry about your friend."

 

And with that, she spun on her heel and stormed out of the apartment. Melissa was obviously still incredibly angry, but Emily had seriously saved my ass. Turning to thank her I was greeted with an expression of disapproval, "Dude, that was freaky," she said.

 

"I know, right, she scares me too sometimes," I said.

 

"No, not that. You..." She explained.

 

Surprised, I replied, "What?"

 

"That story about me calling you, it just rolled off your tongue, you ever considered being a lawyer?"

 

"I kind of always saw myself as more of a detective to be honest," I started.

 

Her voice suddenly shifting to match that of a teacher scolding an unruly child, Emily said, "I'm sure you had your reasons for ditching Melissa, but not even telling her you had to go is pretty messed up. I won't be helping you lie to her again, assuming she forgives you. Which BTW, I'm sure she will."

 

I nodded shamefully and said nothing. It's not as if I could tell her the truth.

 

The hospital looked much more inviting that afternoon when Emily and I arrived to meet Nate's mother. I held Emily's hand as we approached the front desk to see if we were allowed to visit our friend. Leslie hadn't called so we could only assume that nothing had gone wrong during the night. The receptionist confirmed my assumptions and explained that Nate was now in stable condition and we were allowed to visit him.

 

Entering the room we were greeted warmly by a short woman with dark hair that was greying at the roots, who looked as though she hadn't slept in several days. It was Nate's mother. Her eyes weakly gleamed at me through her large glasses that made her eyes appear much larger than they actually were. The attempt at cheerfulness did nothing to hide the thick glaze of tears that hung over her eyes, "Richard Grayson, it has been a while. C'mere boy and gimme a hug." she said, wrapping her arms around me.

 

"Hey, Mrs D," I said, returning the hug with a sympathetic smile.

 

"And Emily," Mrs D said, turning to Emily and hugging her tightly, "It's so good to see you both."

 

"Good to see you too," Emily replied.

 

"It's a shame it couldn't be under better circumstances," Nate's mother said with a sniff, turning to look at Nate on the bed beside her. It seemed that all of her bravado and false happiness shattered when she looked at Nate's still body, it took a hard stare to even see that he was breathing, the portly woman fell back into the chair at his bedside and burst into tears.

 

Emily bolted to her side, kneeling down and holding her hand. "I'm sorry, you two, I know the Lord has a plan," She sniffed, "It's just... He's my baby... My baby boy, I can't lose him, I just can't!"

 

"You won't," Emily said, rushing to her side, "Remember what the doctors said, he's way past the real danger now. He just needs to rest up, and he'll be OK."

 

There were spare seats piled up in the corner of the room, I figured I'd be helpful and bring one over for Emily.

 

We sat with Nate and his mother for the rest of the day, swapping stories and reminiscing about the good old days. Mrs D regaled us with tales of Nate and his brother as children, often pausing to hold back her tears, it seemed that Emily and I being by her side was very comforting.

 

Finally, at seven o'clock that evening, the old woman fell asleep in the armchair at Nate's bedside. I pulled a blanket over her shoulders and placed her spectacles on the bedside table, she groaned, but it didn't wake her.

 

"Will you be OK here for a while?" I asked Emily in a whisper.

 

"Sure dude" She replied.

 

"I shouldn't be too long," I said. Emily nodded approvingly, and I tiptoed out of the room so as not to disturb Mrs D's slumber.

 

Jim Gordon's hospital room was a little trickier to infiltrate than Nate's. The door was guarded by two SWAT officers each with their own assault rifle. Nevertheless, I approached them trying to look as inconspicuous as possible. I planned to stroll past and try to get a glimpse inside, as Barbara hadn't returned any of my calls I only had Leslie's word that Gordon was doing OK.

 

It wasn't that I didn't believe Leslie, but after going through a trauma like he had, there was no telling how Gordon would react mentally. And the best way to tell would be to speak to his daughter. Of course, that's what I told myself. Really I just needed to see how Barbara was doing.

 

I peered casually over my shoulder while passing the guarded door, sure enough, I could just see Barbara at the foot of her father's hospital bed. Much to my relief she had a wide smile on her face and was talking to her father who was responding animatedly. That was all I needed to see.

 

Coffee was my crutch that day, I often found myself drained after a night of combat, but there was something so much more energy-sapping about waiting around in the hospital. Maybe it was the place, or more likely it was the anxiety and uncertainty surrounding the whole situation, but I couldn't remember a time where I'd felt as reliant on caffeine to get me through.

 

The coffee machine on our floor was out of order, which meant I had to trek to the ground floor. I stood at the machine and poured myself, Emily and Mrs D a cup as I had several times already that day; placing them one-by-one into the cupholder. Mrs D probably wouldn't drink hers, but it seemed impolite not to get her one.

 

Nate's room was exactly how I'd left it, he and his mother hadn't moved an inch, she was still sleeping at his side with her hand clutched tightly around his. Emily, on the other hand, had slumped back in her chair, head tilted back with her mouth wide open. Before moving any further into the room, I took out my phone and snapped a shot to show Nate when he finally came round. After seeing Barbara's smiling face, I'd been given a welcome shot of optimism.

 

Emily snorted as I wafted her coffee under her nose. "Huh?" she murmured, opening her eyes slightly. I beamed down at her, holding out the steaming cup.

 

"Your low-fat crappucino with extra foam," I grinned.

 

"Thanks, dude," She said, yawning.

 

"Did I miss anything?" I asked in a low voice so as not to wake Mrs D.

 

"Don't think so, Mrs D has been asleep since you left, I wasn't awake for long after either," She said, putting her hand to her face and suppressing a yawn.

 

"Right."

 

"Oh, a nurse did come by and check Nate's vitals - he said Nate was still in a stable condition."

 

"Well that's good," I said, now standing over Nate "He'd better come back to us soon."


	11. When The Tingle Becomes A Chill

The week following the Arkham incident trudged by slowly. Aside from visiting the hospital with Emily and going to collect assignments from college, my social life had been reduced to a series of text messages. I hadn't seen Melissa since she had come to my apartment to confront me, but we had stayed in touch. I decided that I would make it up to her by hosting our second date at my apartment, that way I wouldn't (hopefully) have any reason to run away.

 

Barbara had sent me a message to say her father was going to be discharged at the end of the week as long as he showed no signs of the toxin in his system. I responded with an apology which twenty-four hours later still hadn't been replied to - which meant she was still mad.

 

For the time being, I had to put these things to the back of my mind. Batman and I were in the Batmobile on our way to Arkham Asylum. The streetlights whooshed past the windows as we hurtled through the streets at an incredible speed.

 

"So, has Barb been in touch with you?" I asked, attempting to cease what I felt was an awkward silence.

 

"No," Batman replied coldly.

 

"Oh, well Jim is doing OK - should be out by-" I began.

 

"I know" He interrupted.

 

"Of course you do..." I said, trying to suppress an eye roll.

 

"How is your friend doing?"

 

My eyes widened, I hadn't expected him to take an interest, "Uhm, he hasn't come round yet - but the doctors are hopeful."

 

"Good."

 

Before I knew it, we were driving up the road that led to the Asylum, which was still heavily guarded on all sides by members of the GCPD. "Freeze isn't likely to tell us anything," Batman said, "But he's the best lead we have."

 

Mr Freeze's cell had been custom-made to accommodate his condition. Our escort heaved open the large metal door, which still contained marks from the stray bullets that had hit it during the Arkham siege. The cell was reminiscent of a large refrigerator, like something you'd only find at a butcher's shop or a big restaurant. Victor Fries sat handcuffed to a chair in the centre of the room behind a desk, he looked quite scrawny without his suit on.

 

I pulled up another chair and sat across from Freeze, Batman stayed on his feet.

 

"Batman," Freeze said, "It's about time."

 

Batman stood menacingly over him and glared down fixedly into his pale blue eyes.

 

"Why have you been working for the Scarecrow," Batman asked. Freeze's lip curled into what could almost be perceived as a smile.

 

"I don't work for anyone," Freeze responded, calmly.

 

"You were helping him peddle his drugs, that's why he broke you out," said Batman, matter-of-factly.

 

"His drugs?" Freeze questioned, was Scarecrow not leading this operation?

 

"Yes."

 

"No," Freeze responded, "I was simply being paid to assist, but not by the Scarecrow."

 

"Then who?" I interjected.

 

"I never met the man himself," Freeze explained, "Just one of his associates."

 

"Why should we believe you?" Batman asked.

 

"They didn't hold their end of the bargain."

 

"How so?" I questioned, my eyes now fixed on Freeze's in the hope that I could detect how truthful he was being.

 

"I'm in here," Freeze said, gesturing to the room with both of his arms, "The agreement was that I would be broken out."

 

"Wait, you intended on getting caught?" I said, not quite believing what I was hearing.

 

"Yes," Freeze said almost mockingly.

 

Batman looked at me, his expression shifted under the mask for a brief second as if that explained why Freeze was so easily taken down by me. I couldn't help but feel slightly offended.

 

"That makes no sense..." I thought aloud.

 

"It was..." Freeze began, but Batman cut him off.

 

"A distraction," Batman said, coldly. It was just like Bruce to be ten steps ahead. All I could think was that my friend could have died, and others did die, for a distraction.

 

"Precisely," Freeze said, nodding his head, "Right now, there is more Vertigo pumping through this city than any other in the country."

 

This fact didn't even seem to phase Batman, who continued with his somewhat casual investigation, "What was in it for you?"

 

"One million dollars, for my research," Freeze said, spilling information like a leaking faucet.

 

"What research?" I asked, gritting my teeth.

 

"Does it matter? I'm trapped in here now."

 

"Who did you meet?" Batman interrupted, again.

 

"A man, he wore a white suit, very striking - no names were involved."

 

"What did he tell you about his employer."

 

"Nothing, I got the impression he was more a partner than an employee."

 

"Partner?"

 

"I don't know, but he didn't come across as a man who took too many orders. He told me what I needed to know about the plan and gave me $250,000 as a down payment," Freeze explained.

 

"So where does the Scarecrow fit in?" I asked.

 

"He oversees some of the production, and before you ask, I've never seen him outside of the mask."

 

"We're done here," Batman said, turning toward the door before I could voice any further opinions. There was a brief second where I considered staying in the room with Freeze, and maybe giving him a few punches for Nate - but I held back the desire and followed Batman to the door.

 

Then a realisation hit me like a punch to the gut.

 

"Wait," I began, rounding on Freeze. Batman turned on his heel and scowled at me "You met a guy with a white suit?" I asked.

 

"Yes?" Freeze responded, puzzled.

 

"Short?" I continued.

 

"Yes"

 

"Old?"

 

"Fairly."

 

"Silver moustache?"

 

"Have you met this man?"

 

"Did his suit have a matching fedora?"

 

"It did."

 

"Stan..."

 

Batman didn't say anything but gave me an enquiring look. I looked back and said: "We're done here, let's go."

 

Bruce and I spent the next few hours in the Batcave, I explained the situation with Stan and how I'd unintentionally ruined Detective Yin's undercover operation. What followed was an extensive and time-consuming scan of the GCPD criminal database.

 

"Got him," I said, finally.

 

Bruce leaned over my shoulder and peered at the screen, "Stanley Elrod," He read aloud from the screen.

 

"Yep, and aside from a few minor infractions as a kid, he's totally clean," I sighed.

 

"He's been paying someone off," Bruce stated.

 

"I think that was Yin's theory."

 

"Cross-reference his name with articles in the Gazette, see if he's ever been suspected of anything," Bruce said, grabbing a pad and pen.

 

I typed his command into the system, results filled the screen in a flood, "Holy shit."

 

"Indeed," He pointed, "Zoom in on that one, this was only weeks ago."

 

"Wait, they covered his arrest?" I asked.

 

"Suspicion of kidnapping and murder," Bruce said, staring closely at the headline.

 

"And they printed that?"

 

"Yes, but if his record is clean, that means he's been released since this article was written - so whoever he had to pay..."

 

"Has already been paid off."

 

"Exactly."

 

"His people work fast," I said.

 

"Indeed, you should get home," Bruce said, gesturing to the exit.

 

"What?" I said, somewhat insulted.

 

"You need to rest up."

 

"Rest up? We have to go after this guy!" I said a little louder than I meant to.

 

"I agree," Bruce said, not reacting to my shift in tone.

 

"But?"

 

"But, he's our path to Scarecrow - we need to approach this carefully."

 

"Are you saying I'm not careful?"

 

"I'm saying you've probably slept less than I have this week..."

 

"Doubtful..."

 

"Go, rest up, I'll speak to some of my contacts and get a better profile on this guy."

 

I hoped he could feel the contemptuous look in my eyes leaving an imaginary into the side of his head.

 

"I will contact you when I need you."

 

"Fine," I sighed.

 

Dawn was breaking on the horizon by the time I left the cave, I rode out on my civilian-cycle towards the city centre. Habitually, and partly due to my annoyance at Bruce, I decided to pass through every rough neighbourhood I could think of on the way home.

 

Bleake Island was the last stop on my list, I pulled up outside the Stromwell building and stared up to the top. The incomplete floors up at the very top reminded me of Clancy Wolfman. Sure, he wasn't a great human being, but he was used, abused and disposed of like a dirty tissue - and I wasn't comfortable with that.

 

"Bad night to be out on your own, buddy," A voice called out. I looked around, a scruffy looking man emerged from an alleyway across the street followed by three other similarly-dressed men. I laughed loudly and hopped off the bike. The visor of my helmet was tinted so there was no way I was going to be recognised.

 

"Just give us your wallet, phone and the keys to your bike," The man said calmly, pulling out a knife from his worn jeans, "And I won't have to cut you up."

 

I opened my mouth to speak but found that before the words left my mouth, I was being spoken for.

 

"Leave him alone!" Shouted a voice from up high. All of a sudden, a figure shot down the fire escape nearest the group of men. Landing on the edge of an open dumpster, the mysterious caped-crusader sprung into kick which landed with a tremendous crack on the side of one of the goons' heads. The villain spun on the spot and clattered into a squirming heap on the ground.

 

Coming into view, I was horrified to see Spoiler bounce backwards and land on her ass. I ran over with the intention of helping, but the girl quickly sprung to her feet and held up her hand in protest, "Stay back!" She shouted. Out of some wild curiosity to see what her next move was going to be, I stopped in my tracks at her command.

 

Her fighting style was rough, but it resembled my own in the strangest kind of way. It was clear that she'd learned to fight on the street, throwing punches and defending like a graceless UFC fighter. Height didn't appear to be on her side against this set of hoodlums, but she turned the disadvantage into a skilful advantage - driving the first of her opponents into the ground with a series of brutal uppercuts that knocked him off balance.

 

The knifeman flanked behind her, and as I stepped forward, it was all of a sudden like I was watching a shorter female version of myself. Her leg swept under the thug in an uncharacteristically fluid rotation that knocked him sideways on to the floor, following with a kick to his hand which sent the knife hurtling through the air.

 

The third man made an attempt to get back to his feet, an effort which was met with two feet planting in the centre of his back, smashing his face into the concrete.

 

The three would-be-muggers were sprawled on the ground in various states of shock and pain.

 

"Are you alright?" Spoiler asked me.

 

"Yeah, they didn't get near me," I said, "Thanks to you that is."

 

"Don't mention it - I'm here to help, sir!" She shouted energetically, which made a change from her usual attitude. Part of me wanted to laugh at how cheesy that seemed, but I couldn't bring myself to take away from her moment of triumph. At least not right away.

 

"You should get back on your bike and go home," She commanded.

 

"Will do!" I responded.

 

The girl paused as if for a moment she thought she had recognised my voice. But with a shake of the head, she disappeared into the darkness of the alleyway.

 

I waited for her to be completely out of view before I walked toward the three men on the ground, I picked up the knife which lay a few metres from them. They were rolling around clutching their various injuries like soccer players waiting for the referee to call out a foul as I stood over them with the blade.

 

"Please, don't kill us, you don't need to kill us!" Their leader shouted. I tilted my head, smirking under the visor of my helmet. I allowed the man to stew for a few seconds under my gaze, his eyes darting between my helmet and the blade before I threw the knife into the nearby dumpster.

 

"She'll be watching you," I told them, "So you'd better be model citizens from here on out."

 

Thinking about Spoiler's actions that night, I was an odd mixture of concerned and proud. On the one hand, she hadn't taken on board what I'd said about putting herself in danger. But on the other hand, she had seriously kicked some ass - and she hadn't needed my help at all.

 

The thoughts of Spoiler and my contemplation of what Freeze had revealed to us kept me awake for most of the hours I'd planned to be resting. And when I'd finally gotten to sleep, it was completely light outside.

 

At what felt like the instant my head had hit the pillow - I was awake again. My eyes were sore and heavy, the room coming into focus very slowly. I caught sight of my dishevelled hair in the reflection of my alarm clock, I wasn't a particularly vain person, but I could not go out looking like I did.

 

I looked over at my phone, intending for it to only be a brief glance, to see I had several text messages. The first two were from Emily, I braced myself for some update on Nate's condition. The first read:

 

Emily: I take it you slept in? No worries I covered for you with Crane, will drop by later with my notes.

 

This was good, I could think of worse things than missing class. The second read:

 

Emily: Oh and they wrote a story about Nate in the Gazette, I'll bring that over too! See you at like 3 :)

 

That message also seemed relatively positive, that meant the article couldn't have been written by Gerty. The third message was from Melissa, surely this was going to be bad:

 

Melissa: Hey Grayson, hope you're doing OK, looking forward to seeing you tonight but if you have to cancel just let me know. Understand things are a little tough right now - Melissa x

 

Three out of three, it seemed like bad hair was going to be the worst thing I had to contend with that day.

 

A hot soapy shower took care of my overall scruffiness, and I almost looked like an ordinary functioning member of society by the time Emily arrived to drop off her class notes. I rifled through them and skimmed the handwritten scribbles as quickly as my drained eyes would allow. Emily was sat cross-legged in front of my TV flicking through my dusty collection of vinyls which hadn't even been touched since my days at Wayne Manor.

 

"Dude, don't you have anything upbeat?" She said, holding up a 'Smiths' album.

 

"And what's wrong with the Smiths?" I responded looking up from Emily's frantic scribbles.

 

"Nothing, I was just looking for something a little more cheery."

 

"I'm sure the Bee Gees are in there somewhere," I said, squinting back at her notes, "Y'know, your handwriting is pretty bad."

 

"Crane was talking stupidly fast, he let us leave like half an hour early, it was totally bizarre," Emily explained.

 

"Really?" I asked, that didn't sound much like Crane, if anything he was likely to drone on half an hour longer than he should have.

 

"Yeah, the dude was being super weird... Not that it was a bad thing," Emily laughed, "Apparently he ducked out twice while we were out of class last week too."

 

"Weird, maybe he missed us?" I joked.

 

"Probably, Bee Gees it is then I guess," Emily sighed, defeated, "You should really get some new music." And she started toward the record player which she'd set up on the desk by the door.

 

"I have an iPod, you are aware of that right?" I said, stopping her in her tracks. I could only see the back of her head, but I knew for a fact that she was rolling her eyes. Next thing I knew, 'Stayin' Alive' was blasting out of the player. Emily spun around in an exaggerated fashion and started to dance around distractingly in front of me.

 

"I'm trying to read..." I said through unconvincing gritted teeth.

 

"Fine," Emily huffed, continuing to dance, "Be a loser, dude, I don't care."

 

Refusing to rise to her taunts I continued to read the second page of notes, though not making any progress as the noise was making it difficult to concentrate. Emily started to shuffle around the sofa and clap to the tune, whispering "loser" in my ear everytime she passed behind me. In spite of the fact I'd just read the same sentence seventeen times in a row, I wasn't going to react.

 

Finally, Emily dropped down into the seat next to me and punched me lightly on the arm "Dancing is a great release you know, you should try it" she told me.

 

"I will most definitely be dancing when you leave," I said sarcastically.

 

"Asshole," She replied, I laughed again, and she shoved me jokingly, "I do have to go though."

 

"Really?"

 

"Yeah, I'm gonna take Nate's mom a change of clothes."

 

"Again?"

 

"Yeah, she's still refusing to go home until he wakes up," Emily said, tilting her head sympathetically at the thought.

 

"At least Leslie had that bed brought in for her. You sure you don't need me to come with you?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

 

"No, you take the night off - you have your big date anyway dude. The way she reacted last time, you'll probably end up in hospital yourself if you miss this."

 

"Good point. Promise you'll call me if anything happens?"

 

"I will, I will," She said, getting to her feet, "And don't forget to start cooking before Melissa gets here, you don't wanna mess up two dates."

 

"Don't worry, I'll get this one right," I insisted.

 

She ruffled my hair and walked to the door, "Don't be too sure, dude, it is you after all."

 

"Your confidence really is what keeps me going," I sighed, rolling my eyes, "I'll see you tomorrow."

 

"Later, loser!" Emily said as she left, closing the apartment door behind her. I slumped back to lie down on the sofa and flicked on the TV. The decision to rest my eyes wasn't entirely my own as I felt I'd been overcome by my need to get back to sleep.

 

A bright light burned through my eyelids, arms instinctively flinching to cover them I groaned, "What the..." as the room around me came back into focus, it was apparently a lot later than when Emily had left. And I definitely hadn't started cooking. I also hadn't turned on the light.

 

"I let myself in," Came a familiar voice from near the door. I sat up sharply to see Melissa standing there, she was more casually dressed than usual, in a shirt and jeans. A speck of light still flashing in my vision almost covered her face. I tried to look away from the spec, but it was imprinted on the surface of my eye.

 

Melissa turned toward the dark kitchen, "So what's for dinner?" she said, severely.

 

It wasn't until she came closer that I could see that she was smiling, it definitely suited her, "Hi," I said pathetically.

 

"Hi," She laughed, "You look great," her eyes mainly focusing on the sweatpants I was wearing. She walked over to my bedroom and switched on the light, throwing her coat on to the bed.

 

"Yeah, I kind of... Fell asleep," I explained.

 

"Oh really? That's not like you," She said sarcastically.

 

"I swear, one of these days I will actually be awake when you get here," I promised, shuffling around to make room for her on the sofa next to me. I thought for sure she'd be about to leave, but again I was surprised when she took a seat - still smiling.

 

"Pizza?" She suggested.

 

"Sure, you like pepperoni right?"

 

"You'd actually know that if you'd stayed at the restaurant on our last date," Melissa jabbed, it was a fair point.

 

"Is that a yes?" I said, side-stepping the comment.

 

"Who doesn't like pepperoni?"

 

I took that as a yes and started to order the pizza using a nifty app on my phone.

 

"So," I began "How was your day?"

 

"It was OK, dad wasn't too pleased when he heard where I was going - he rambled something about you being rude and insolent," She said, giving me a stern but humorous look.

 

"Oh yeah, I forgot he hated my guts," I sighed.

 

"Lucky my future stepmom holds you in such high regard," She said with a knowing smile.

 

"I'm sorry what?" I responded, genuinely puzzled.

 

"She says she knows you very well."

 

"Who are you talking about?" I asked.

 

"Don't tell me you didn't know?"

 

"Know what?!" I asked, much more forcefully than the last question.

 

"My dad is marrying Silver St. Cloud, of course, it's been in the papers a few times!" Melissa explained as though I was an avid reader of gossip columns. I had read them in the past of course but usually only when they were about me.

 

"Bruce's ex-fiancee Silver?"

 

"Yup!"

 

"Is marrying your father?"

 

"What's that supposed to mean?" Melissa growled.

 

"Oh, nothing, he's a charming guy..." We looked each other in the eyes for a second and laughed in unison.

 

"You will have to learn to get along with him eventually, Grayson," She explained.

 

"Why's that?"

 

"Well, my boyfriend and my father are likely to cross paths at some point," Her cheeks flushed almost immediately as she finished the sentence.

 

"Boyfriend?" I said, my mouth curving into a smirk.

 

"Oh shut up, I was clearly joking."

 

"No, you weren't" I laughed "Did you think I was your boyfriend?" I said teasingly.

 

She gasped, "What do you mean I thought?"

 

"I was just having a bit of fun," I said, in a mock-serious tone, "Sorry if you had already planned the wedding."

 

"You're a dick, Grayson," She huffed, folding her arms and looking away.

 

"That's my name" I smiled.

 

She turned immediately back around and began to slap at me playfully with both hands, I grabbed her gently by the wrists and continued to taunt her, "That is so mean, why would want to slap your boyfriend?"

 

"Shut up!" She pushed me on to my back and began prodding me, presumably to find a ticklish spot.

 

"Not ticklish, sorry!" I laughed, sitting back up.

 

"You are supremely annoying," She said, pushing me back down again. This time she lunged on top of me and put her face right in front of mine. I wasn't going to wait for any further signals, I don't think I could have if I'd wanted to.

 

I leaned up ever-so-slightly and kissed her bottom lip before dropping back down and grinning at her with what I'd like to call 'boyish charm', though Barbara used to call it my 'dick-face'. I'm not sure if she was making a reference to my name or to the other thing... Knowing her, it was probably both.

 

Melissa gazed at me for a second and said, "You are so my boyfriend," moving in for another kiss. It briefly occurred to me that things were going far too well, I took a brief scan to my left to make sure this wasn't some kind of trap, before caressing her hips and engaging in another kiss.

 

We made out with no interruption for a while, until finally, we came up for air. Melissa was still beaming at me adoringly.

 

A knock at the door followed shortly after, signalling the arrival of a much-needed pepperoni pizza. I collected some plates from the kitchen "Here you go" I said, laying the plates down on the coffee table.

 

"Where are the knives and forks?" She asked.

 

"Excuse me?" I responded, dumbfounded by the thought, "You eat takeout pizza with a knife and fork?"

 

"I'm not an animal Grayson, of course I do."

 

"Well, my ladyship, I will go and get them for you," I said with a curt bow.

 

"Thank you," She nodded.

 

I stopped for a second, "I'm still allowed to eat it with my hands, right?"

 

She said nothing and just rolled her eyes. Regardless of what she actually meant, I took it as a yes.

 

The movie Melissa had chosen to watch was actually better than I'd expected, considering that she'd previously made me watch 'Real Housewives', although I was a little fuzzy on a few plot points due to all the make out intervals we'd had.

 

By the time the credits rolled, the movie had faded into the background and Melissa was on top of me again, this time kissing my neck. I glanced at the clock hanging above my TV, "Holy shit," I said, sitting up gently, stopping Melissa for a second, "Didn't your dad say you had to be home?"

 

"Oh damn. Yeah," Melissa said, standing up and gesturing to the bedroom, "Could you get my coat?"

 

"Sure," I smiled, trying to hide the disappointment I was feeling at her abruptly planned departure.

 

I walked over to the bedroom where Melissa's coat was waiting on the bed. Scooping it up and I turning around I was surprised to see Melissa standing in the doorway, her shirt was now wholly unbuttoned and open. She laughed, "I text my dad like an hour ago, told him I'd be staying here... If that's OK?"

 

"You sure he won't be sending his personal security to come and kill me?"

 

"I can't make any promises..."

 

I shrugged my shoulders dismissively, "Meh, it's probably worth it."

 

"Probably?"

 

The bedroom door creaked slightly as Melissa closed it behind her. Sliding her shirt off her shoulders, she pushed me back on to the bed and gave a devilish smile as she slinked over to the light switch.

 

_Click._


	12. The Boys Are Back In Town

"So how do you know Dick?" A muffled and disembodied female voice said.

 

"Me and Dick go way back!" Responded another, deeper voice which undoubtedly belonged to a man.

 

"Oh really, old school friends?"

 

"Kinda, briefly, I guess - I was never particularly academic..."

 

"And I take it you usually break into your friends' homes and cook yourself eggs at six in the morning then?"

 

"Well, I didn't know Dick had company, attractive company if you don't mind my saying so."

 

"I do mind, clearly."

 

"Yeah, you can put the bat down anytime y'know."

 

I looked over to my right and realised Melissa wasn't there, and my bedroom door was slightly ajar - the voices weren't a dream, someone was in my apartment.

 

I slid silently out of bed and on to the floor. I thought for a second about pulling out one my hidden batarangs but realised that I could probably avoid revealing my secret to Melissa if this was a run of the mill criminal.

 

I brandished my alarm clock instead and crept to the door. Holding the handle tightly to minimise creaking I listened for further voices, I heard a mumble from the edge of the kitchen and then distinctly heard Melissa speaking, edging closer to the phone by the TV.

 

My moment to shine was at hand, I lunged around the door, launching the alarm clock at the head of the would-be intruder and raised my fists.

 

"Shit!" He shouted as he narrowly dodged the clock with stunning reflexes that were comparable to my own. The clock shattered against the glass frame of a picture on the wall, one of my parents and I at the circus. A dark-haired man titled his head and brushed a piece of alarm clock off the shoulder of his red hoodie, he tilted his head, and his eyes widened "Is that how you greet your buddies now?"

 

"Roy?" I said, shocked. Roy Harper (aka Speedy, Arsenal, Red Arrow and probably some other names too) was an old friend from my days in the Titans, he specialised in marksmanship with a bow and arrow - and causing mischief wherever possible.

 

"I hope the clock wasn't expensive," He laughed.

 

"It was worth it to see the look on your face," I said, approaching him somewhat cautiously in case he decided to fling an object back at me to even the score.

 

"You're getting paranoid in your old age, man," Said Roy.

 

"Old age, screw you, Harper."

 

"Get over here" He laughed again raising his arms for a very 'bro-ish' hug. I obliged and gave him my interpretation of a manly hug which came off a little awkward but not to the point where it was too noticeable.

 

"Is someone going to explain what the hell is going on here?" Melissa interjected, she was stood by the TV wearing only my long T-shirt grasping my baseball bat - I had forgotten she was even there for a second.

 

"Oh, uhm, Melissa, meet Roy - he's an old buddy" I explained.

 

"Hi," Roy said.

 

"And Roy, this is my..." I paused for a second, "My girlfriend, Melissa."

 

Roy raised his eyebrows, "Nice," he chuckled approvingly, much to Melissa's chagrin.

 

Melissa scowled, "Old friend or not, you should have knocked."

 

"I was making you breakfast in bed!" Roy exclaimed, pretending to be insulted.

 

I looked over at the front door "You didn't break the lock" I said "Nice."

 

"I'm getting pretty good, I know!" Roy said, smugly "Now who wants some eggs?"

 

Melissa's mood improved once Roy handed her a plate with poached eggs and toast on it. I sat with her on the sofa watching early morning TV until Roy signalled me over to the kitchen with a casual movement of his head.

 

"So" He whispered under his breath as he cracked another egg, "Does she know?"

 

"No," I replied, quietly.

 

"Shit, you should really go zip my bag up," Roy said, as he gestured towards a red gym bag that was sitting by the front door, with a quiver of arrows sticking out of it.

 

"How you've kept your identity a secret all these years I will never know," I said, rolling my eyes.

 

Casually as I could, I strolled over to the bag and picked it up. Melissa smiled at me as I took it took over to the bedroom. I took a peek inside, and sure enough, under the arrow quiver, there was a folded up bow and a red leather hooded costume complete with kevlar padding and a matching eye mask; barely hidden under a change of civilian clothes, some condoms and a few cans of Red Bull.

 

"Am I cool to crash here for a few nights?" Called Roy over the sudden hiss of the frying pan.

 

"Sure, I gotta visit the hospital tonight though so I'll have to leave you a key."

 

"Hospital, everything cool?"

 

I explained in detail what had happened to Nate. Nate and Roy had never crossed paths during Roy's brief tenure at my high school - he had met Emily whom he had continually tried to hit on, to no avail. Emily didn't hate Roy, but she wasn't exactly a fan either.

 

"Man, that sucks - hope he pulls through," Roy said.

 

"He's tough, and I think he's through the worst of it - he just needs to wake up now."

 

"Cool, well just shout when you need to go, and I'll drive you down there."

 

"Thanks," I said, looking at him suspiciously.

 

"I'm gonna go and have a shower," Melissa said, "My dad is picking me up for lunch in a couple of hours."

 

"Alright" I smiled "I'll grab you a towel."

 

I escorted her to the bedroom and pulled a towel from the top shelf of my closet. I handed the towel over and kissed her on the cheek "Don't let him talk you into anything stupid" She said, warningly.

 

"Who, Roy?"

 

"No your other friend that broke into your apartment" She replied sarcastically.

 

"Trust me, he's not as bad as he seems."

 

Big Belly Burger wouldn't have been my first choice for lunch, but Roy insisted that he needed the 'protein'. We took a window seat at the far end of the place so that we could have a more private conversation. I watched Roy stuff his face with fries for a few minutes before cutting to the chase "Not that I'm not happy to see you..." I began "But now Melissa is gone, can you tell me why you're really here?"

 

"Oliver asked me to come" He mumbled through a mouthful of food.

 

"Oliver Queen?" I asked, realising it was probably a stupid question.

 

"Who else?" Said Roy, raising an eyebrow to indicate that he also thought I was asking a dumb question.

 

"What does he want you to do in Gotham?"

 

"Word on the street is that Vertigo is all over this city now," Roy explained.

 

"Yeah, but it doesn't look like it's got anything to do with the Count."

 

"That's what I thought too, but Oliver wanted me to check it out anyway."

 

"Couldn't hurt to have you around for a few days I guess, Batman and I are in the middle of a pretty big investigation," I said, throwing a handful of fries into my mouth.

 

"Yeah, like that guy's gonna let me help," Roy said, rolling his eyes. Batman wasn't a big fan of Roy and his unruly behaviour. Roy was what Bruce would call a loose cannon, and believed that unpredictability was only useful when it came to enemies, not when your own team didn't know what you were going to do next. Roy preferred the term Wildcard, but the principle remained the same.

 

"Oh god no, he despises you - but you can watch my back when he's not around," I explained with a chuckle.

 

"Just like the good old days," Roy said with a sort of dreamy look in his eyes like he was having some kind of happy flashback.

 

"Do you remember the good old days?" I asked, knowing how Roy had behaved for most of his time with the group.

 

"Sure, we fought Slade Wilson a whole bunch, we had a great team, you were dating an alien space cat... Good times!" He insisted.

 

"A great team? I thought you hated it in the Titans?" I questioned with genuine interest.

 

"Hated it? Are you crazy?"

 

"You and Wally fought all the time, and you left?" Wally West (aka Kid Flash) and Roy had numerous fallings out over various things. Namely Roy's inability to follow orders and the fact that they often seemed to end up liking the same girl.

 

"Alright, Wally was a dick head, but I only left because I had to - and you didn't stay much longer than I did."

 

"Fair enough," I said, remembering it very differently.

 

"You still in touch with anybody?" Roy asked, slurping on his drink.

 

"We all email, but we don't really meet up or anything at the moment - you?"

 

"Not really, I've been pretty under the radar," He explained, "I hear there's a whole new team now,"

 

"Anyone we know?"

 

"I think Raven and Cyborg are still on the team, I hear Supergirl joined the team too," He looked off into the distance again, dreamily, "Man I wish she was on the team back when we were, she's somethin' else. Didn't she have a huge crush on you at one point?"

 

"So I hear," I said, trying to sound casual, "Met her a few times though and she never said anything."

 

"Probably because you've always got a girlfriend. Barbara, Kory, and now this Melissa chick, you're a serial dater man, a hopeless romantic."

 

"I am not," I said defensively.

 

"Speaking of, how is Barb? Ready to let me take a shot at her?" He joked.

 

"Barb has known you way too long to fall for your BS," I jabbed back.

 

"You're probably right," He said, his mouth curling into a smirk, "I do like the idea of a redheaded girlfriend, fiery!"

 

"Alright, alright, don't make me take you outside," I laughed, picking the last fry from the bottom of the box and eating it, "What's this about being under the radar anyway?"

 

"I can't talk about it right now, top secret shit," Roy said, putting his finger to his lips.

 

"Our entire lives are top secret shit," I said.

 

"Even so, I gotta keep it zipped."

 

"Hmm," I paused for a moment, "And Kory isn't an alien space cat, she's a Tamaranean"

 

"Whatever, she still dumped your ass."

 

As he'd promised, Roy not only dropped me at the hospital but he picked me up afterwards too. Emily was less than happy to see him but didn't decline his offer of a ride home. Nate's condition hadn't changed, but his mother was in good spirits, especially after receiving a few slices of Alfred's Apple Crumble.

 

"Later dude," Emily said, stepping out of Roy's car "Uhm, thanks for the ride."

 

"No problem!" Roy smiled "Maybe I could get your number as a thank you?"

 

Emily didn't respond, smiling at me weakly before turning around and heading inside. Roy and I sped away after seeing her close the front door behind her.

 

"So you've never...?" Roy asked.

 

"Never what?" I said.

 

"Y'know..." He gestured with his eyes, "With Emily?"

 

"No!" I responded, "We're just friends."

 

"She's kinda hot though, in a geeky sorta way," Said Roy.

 

"Can we change the subject?" I asked, sighing.

 

"Sure we can, what are your plans for the evening?"

 

"Actually I have somewhere to be."

 

"Sounds exciting, can I come?"

 

"Not tonight," I said.

 

"Why not? Is this part of your BIG investigation?"

 

"No, I'm meeting someone, and I don't want her getting spooked by you."

 

"You're meeting a girl? My, my - Dick Grayson straying away from the Mrs after only one night of wedded bliss?" Roy said in a tone of mock-outrage.

 

"It's nothing like that actually," I explained.

 

"What then?"

 

"I'm training someone."

 

"Wait, you have a sidekick?!" Roy exclaimed excitedly. He'd always referred to us as the 'Sidekicks' when we were in the Titans and often lamented the fact that he didn't have his own sidekick to carry his arrows for him.

 

"I caught her running on the rooftops a couple times, she was insistent on training to be 'one of us', so I was going to find out her identity and put her off the idea," I told Roy who was listening so intently that he'd taken his eyes off the road.

 

"But?" He said.

 

"But then she saved my life... Kind of," I explained, placing my hand on Roy's head and turning it so that his eyes were on the road again.

 

"So now you're training her?"

 

"Yeah, kinda,"

 

"And what's the problem with her meeting me?"

 

"You're a bad influence," I said, sternly, doing my best impression of Bruce.

 

"I am not."

 

Spoiler wasn't at her usual spot that night. Instead, I found her a few blocks away near the Stromwell Building, stalking fire escapes and looking for trouble. Her senses appeared to be more tuned than they had been at first and she'd been doing a lot of practising jumping and climbing, her movements were growing more fluid.

 

That didn't mean she didn't have a lot to learn, I still managed to sneak up on her without much difficulty.

 

"Bird watching?" I asked her, revealing myself from the shadows.

 

"Yeah, I saw a really cool pidgeon right over there," She replied sharply, acting as though I hadn't surprised her.

 

"You ever been up there," I asked, pointing at the top of the unfinished Stromwell Building.

 

"No, you're not gonna make me climb it are you?"

 

"I can't make you do anything."

 

She sighed, "Come on then, let's climb it."

 

Following my lead, Spoiler impressively scaled the large building without fear or much need of my assistance - not that I would ever admit it, but she seemed to be learning almost as quickly as I had back in the day, and without my background in the circus... Not that I knew of anyway.

 

I stayed close as she zipped from ledge to ledge, watching her footing closely in case I had to catch her. Thankfully she made it to the first unfinished floor at the top of the building without a single slip-up.

 

"I'm getting good, right?" She said excitedly.

 

"Don't get cocky..." I said, her head sank slightly, "But yeah, pretty good."

 

Her head raised again, I couldn't tell for sure, but it looked as though she might be smiling under the mask.

 

"Where to now?" She asked, I responded by pointing up to the metal girders, and that reached further into the sky. Without prompting she fired a zip line up to the highest beam and whizzed out of sight. I followed swiftly, landing on the beam next to her.

 

Fumbling slightly, she spread her arms to stay on balance, "Woah," she said.

 

"You alright?" I asked.

 

"Sure, just had a wobble."

 

"Be careful, if we were fighting up here that wobble could cost you your life."

 

"I know, I know."

 

"See down there," I said, pointing to the street below.

 

"Yeah, what about it?" Asked Spoiler.

 

"You beat up some muggers down there the other day, didn't you?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

 

"Shit, you were watching me?"

 

"Yep."

 

"Hang on, were you the guy on the bike?"

 

"Yep."

 

"No way! Why didn't you help me out? I knew I recognised your voice," Spoiler said, folding her arms and letting out a loud huff.

 

"You told me not to, and to be fair, you looked like you had it handled," I said, trying not to give her too much praise.

 

"Yup, I kicked their asses," she said, triumphantly pumping her fist.

 

"Was that the first time you've done something like that?" I asked, I didn't want her thinking I approved of what she'd been doing.

 

"Uhm" She paused for a second "No... Look I know you told me not to but I..."

 

"You did well against those guys, I won't deny that." I explained, "But that could have gone down a lot differently if one of them had a gun."

 

"I'm sorry, OK?"

 

"I don't need you to be sorry, you did well. But I do need you to be careful, promise me you won't go looking for trouble on your own like that anymore. At least not right now."

 

"I will," She said, "But only if you train me..."

 

"I am trai-" I began.

 

"Regularly" She interrupted, "Not this, turning up at random to lecture me crap."

 

"Alright, deal," I said.

 

Spoiler didn't respond to me immediately, she must have been expecting that I'd say no. But I knew there was no stopping her, she wanted to fight crime for some reason and if I didn't help she'd probably end up dead. It helped that she was actually pretty capable of learning what I was trying to teach her.

 

"How are you gonna get in touch with me?" She asked.

 

"Aren't you on Super Facebook?"

 

"Huh? Super Facebook?"

 

"Yeah, it's like a special Facebook for people like us to keep in touch," I said, mockingly.

 

She seemed to contemplate the idea for a second and then turned her head to me again, "Do you enjoy being a giant douche?"

 

"I don't not enjoy it?"

 

"Seriously though, do I get like a bat-phone or something?" Spoiler asked eagerly.

 

"No, I'll work something out, we'll meet at your usual spot this time next week."

 

"Cool."

 

Roy was passed out on the sofa when I emerged from the loft hideout after my meeting with Spoiler. He was still fully clothed with the TV blasting at full volume, and he'd clearly ordered take out - evidenced by the empty pizza box and the crusts that littered the surrounding floor.

 

There was a part of me that wanted to wake him and complain, but it was time for bed - or so I thought. My phone suddenly began to vibrate frantically in my pocket.

 

The screen lit up 'unknown', I answered cautiously "Hello?"

 

"Nightwing, it's me," Came Bruce's voice, "I've got a location on Stan's club, meet me at the location I'm sending through to your phone - you have thirty minutes, or I'm going in alone."

 

So much for sleep.


	13. Like Knives

Batman was perched menacingly on a gargoyle atop the edge of a low-down apartment building on the corner of Dini Avenue. I approached him from a rooftop across the way which was level with his. Batman raised his hand to signal me to stop, then moved his fingers to his eyes and followed with a point towards the street below.

 

A white limousine slowly traversed the narrow street and came to a stop outside a building at the far end. As soon as the vehicle halted, Batman gestured toward it with his finger, I knew this as a signal to move. Staying on my own side of the street I moved along the rooftops with supreme stealth. Batman did the same, only faster.

 

As I'd suspected, Stan emerged from the back of the car, his face a perfect picture of smugness. I could feel the urge to attack him rising, but I naturally knew better. His bodyguard, not the same one as before, led him to the door of a reasonably un-suspicious building which looked to be in need of some renovation and knocked at the door.

 

A worryingly slim man with a distinct lack of hair opened the door and greeted Stan with a courteous bow before allowing him entry. From what I could see of the interior, the building was lavishly decorated - this contrasted heavily with the outside of the building which in comparison seemed somewhat run down.

 

When the door closed, the limousine drove off turning left at the end of the street and disappearing between two buildings. On another signal from Batman, I zip lined over the road to the roof of the building Stan had entered.

 

"You're late," Batman said.

 

"You said thirty minutes!" I replied.

 

"And you arrived in thirty-five," He said scoldingly.

 

"Sorry, it's not as though we missed anything."

 

"If you want to be kept in the loop, do better."

 

"Geez, you wonder why I moved out?"

 

Batman didn't respond, he instead moved toward the roof entrance of the building. His hand reached down to his utility belt and removed a small gadget which looked about the size of a pen lid. With a click, the device extended in length and Batman proceeded to slide it under the door.

 

"New tech?" I asked with genuine curiosity.

 

"Snake cam" He replied.

 

"Cool," I began, "Wait, didn't we already have those?"

 

"The old one was cumbersome," Said Batman, with the air of a salesman trying to push his new product on, "This fits on the belt better."

 

"Can I have one?" I asked hopefully.

 

"No," Batman replied, and before I could say another word, he said, "It's clear, let's move in."

 

I pulled out my lockpick, only to be stopped by Batman's raised hand. For a split second, he appeared to smile as he pulled out his much newer, more slim-lined lockpick.

 

"Let me guess, the old one was cumbersome?" I said sarcastically.

 

"No, this one is just better," He responded, definitely showing the hint of a smile, "And no, you can't have one."

 

The roof door led into the attic floor of the building, which aside from dust and cobwebs was completely empty. Slowly and crouched we moved across the creaking wooden floor, carefully avoiding the glaring cracks where the light flooded through from the rooms below.

 

A murmuring below caught my attention.

 

"... That's not on the menu, Jimmy," A woman's voice said, giggling. I peered through a crack to see a blonde woman who looked to be in her late thirties wearing nothing but a thong, one of Stan's girls if I had to make a guess. A slick-haired brunette man ogled her with his tongue wagging and his arm outstretched.

 

"Come on, don't make me call Stan, baby!" The man seemed to joke, but the response on the woman's face was far from a laugh - she seemed to wince at the mention of her employer's name.

 

"Jim Corrigan," Batman whispered, breaking my attention away, "He's with the GCPD. A detective."

 

"Corrupt piece of - " I began.

 

"We have bigger problems," Batman interrupted, "Let's move."

 

"Seriously?" I said, stunned.

 

"You really want to lose the opportunity to bust Stan to stop what's going on in that room?"

 

"I want to do both," I insisted angrily.

 

"If we bring Stan in, we can tie him to everyone in this building, the house of cards will fall down right on top of lowlifes like Corrigan."

 

As much as I wanted to pull back the ceiling and break Corrigan's face, I knew Bruce was right - getting Stan was in everyone's best interests.

 

I reluctantly pulled myself from the view of the below room and moved across to the far end of the attic floor where the staircase was which led to the lower levels.

 

Batman leaned over the staircase and extended the snake cam, "Corridor is clear, switching to thermal," He said.

 

After a moment or two of peering down the corridor from above, Batman resurfaced, "It looks like Stan is in a room at the far end of the corridor on the right-hand side."

 

"What's our move?" I asked.

 

"From what I can tell about the layout, there's a room next to the one he's in that's unoccupied."

 

"Want me to scout ahead?"

 

"Sure."

 

Slightly surprised at actually being allowed to do something, I proceeded quickly down the stairs and bolted to the door of the second-to-last room on the right.

 

The handle of the door behind me clicked, and I heard the distinct rasp of Corrigan's voice. I had to act fast. I'm not sure why I was surprised, but the door I'd come to was locked shut, and I had about four seconds to unlock it with my inferior lockpick.

 

Corrigan's door creaked open behind me as I frantically scrambled to ease the lock open. It was as if we were all moving in slow motion as the policeman swung the door completely open, his attention still fixed on the blonde who was now redressing on the bed.

 

The woman's eyes made direct contact with my own, but instead of screaming with shock she called out "Wait, Jimmy, do you have to go?" and reached for his hand. Her distraction bought me enough time to throw myself into the unoccupied room.

 

I'd landed in what looked like Christian Grey's store cupboard. The walls were laden with various punishment instruments and other odd sexual contraptions. But what really stood out was the pungent fragrance that all of a sudden assaulted my nostrils. The smell wasn't exactly overpowering, but it wasn't pleasant either - like meat that had just started to go bad.

 

It seemed to be drifting from cracks in the wall, barely visible under the peeling wallpaper. A wall which just so happened to back on to Stan's office. I pressed my ear to it in the hopes of hearing something.

 

"Look, I'll take care of it," Came Stan's voice.

 

"You said this the last time I visited," Sounded another voice, lower and more menacing than Stan's, "And since then, what have you achieved?"

 

"I..." Stan mumbled, he was afraid of whoever was in the room with him, a far cry from the sickening arrogance he portrayed when I met him before.

 

"You have succeeded in drawing unwanted attention to yourself and, by extension, us."

 

"It ain't as though I've never been in the papers before," Stan chuckled, trying to sound confident again.

 

"Laughter? You think this is funny?" The voice replied, "This detective, Yin, is on to you, and will not stop - nor will her vigilante friend."

 

"Why do you care? You guys have taken out bigger fish than this bitch."

 

"You are correct. But, frankly, we are sick of cleaning up your mess. Or should that be messes?"

 

"I thought this ring guaranteed my protection?" Stan snarled, I tried to find a hole to look through and see what ring he was talking about but I was struggling to find one.

 

"There are no guarantees, we allow you the benefits of our organisation in exchange for your services."

 

"And what do you think this place is?!"

 

"A palace for you to flex your ego?" The voice responded with a fleck of amusement, which passed instantly, "It certainly isn't a benefit to the order."

 

"Screw you, I've been making donations for as long as I can frickin' remember."

 

"This is Gotham, there is a brothel on every other corner. Your donations that have gotten smaller, and smaller - while you've gotten louder and louder."

 

"Money's tight," Stan mumbled, almost so that I couldn't hear, "I introduced you to that freak in the mask, and the fat man - that's gotta count for something!"

 

"They are the only reason you are still breathing."

 

"Are you threatening me?" Stan quivered.

 

"We have taken out bigger fish, as you said yourself."

 

"Look, I'll make sure the cop stops sniffing."

 

"Good."

 

"The bat-boy might be a little harder to silence."

 

"You'll find a way, or we will. And trust me, that will not end well for you."

 

I leaned slightly closer into the wall as their voices seemed to be growing quieter. A board under my foot responded to my movements with a creak that may have been inaudible to ordinary ears. As it turned out, Stan's houseguest didn't fall into that spectrum.

 

The blade flashed through the wall like a lightning strike landing inches from the tip of my nose. My reactions being what they were I leapt backwards entirely on instinct and landed with my escrima sticks unsheathed.

 

My opponent tore the wall between us to pieces with a few simple strikes to reveal himself standing alongside the ageing pimp. The sword-wielding assassin was hooded and garbed in a black costume adorned with grey feathers. His mask slightly resembled a bird with large golden eyes, eyes that were moving towards me with incredible speed.

 

The assassin's blade fell directly in line with my head, easily blocked by my crossed escrima sticks.

 

"Kill him!" Stan shouted, pulling a revolver from a hostler concealed in his jacket.

 

The assassin did not respond or relent his aggressive flurry of swipes.

 

My counterattack landed perfectly on the attacker's wrist causing him to stumble forwards. Parrying to his right, I followed with a kick to his side which sent him flying straight through the brittle door and into the corridor.

 

Stan had taken the opportunity to raise his weapon, aiming at my head and pulling the trigger quicker than I thought he was able to... But not quick enough. My Batarang pierced his hand causing the gun to fly upwards and the old man to fall down.

 

My attention immediately turned back to the feathered assassin, who had risen to his feet again. Without giving the man a breath, I jumped feet-first into a kick which landed square on his chest and threw him back once more.

 

"Those fish mustn't have been as big as you thought," I shouted triumphantly, "I was expecting better!"

 

"Funny," He responded, getting to his feet again, "So was I."

 

His sword dropped, and he revealed two handfuls of throwing knives launching them one after the other in my direction.

 

I blocked the first, and the second pinged straight off the emblem of my suit. Sadly the third pierced my shoulder slightly and threw me off balance - allowing the fourth and fifth to hit my stomach in quick succession.

 

The blades were small and had only tipped the surface of my skin, so they were easy to pull out. Nevertheless, the assassin began walking towards me and laughing victoriously.

 

It became obvious as he got closer, that the stench I had smelled previously was the assassin himself. It also became obvious that I couldn't move, not through paralysis, but through fear.

 

The man before me had transformed into an enormous black bird with eyes of fire.

 

The bird screeched incoherently and loomed over me, its wings enclosing me like walls of incoming darkness. Faces began to appear before me; Melissa, Roy, Emily... A swirl of laughing faces... Nate, Barbara, Spoiler... Jason, Bruce and then it stopped, and there was only one face - my own.

 

Or at least, a close approximation - this version of myself looked like a corpse that had been reanimated, and the smell of death that accompanied the laughing visage was overpowering to say the very least.

 

I tried to look away, tried to run, to move - but nothing was working.

 

The face once again became a bird, which shrieked loudly and poised itself to attack with its mighty beak. Somehow I managed to flail my arms in front of my face and deflect the first peck, which seemed not to have even made contact with me.

 

A beacon of light cascaded down from behind the bird and suddenly it was not the biggest creature in the room. The giant bat swooped down and caught the bird in its mouth, dragging it into the sky.

 

That was the last thing I remembered before I was swallowed by darkness.

 

"The bird!" I shouted as I sat up from the cold table. My vision flickered back into focus with a number of frantic blinks - I was in the Batcave.

 

"There is no bird," Bruce responded, throwing me a towel to mop the sweat from my face, "Those knives were tipped with a version of the fear toxin."

 

"Shit, again?" I said exhaustedly.

 

"Yep," Came Barbara's voice from behind me, "You gotta quit it with those experimental drugs."

 

"Barb," I said with a smile of relief, then turned my attention back to Bruce, "How long was I out?"

 

"Couple hours," She replied.

 

"So the drug just amplified what was already around me? The bird was..."

 

"The assassin," Bruce confirmed, "He was wearing an Owl mask."

 

"Did you get him?"

 

"No, he got away."

 

"It looked like you had him to me, assuming you were the giant bat monster I saw," I said, recounting the moment in my mind.

 

"We fought, but I had to make you my priority," Bruce said with a tone of resentment.

 

"Shit," I gulped as I hopped off the bed onto the cold floor, "I'm sorry, I messed up."

 

"He had his mask off," Bruce continued as if I hadn't said anything "Did you see his face?"

 

"No, I saw a lot of faces, then my own face..."

 

"Like Luke in Empire," Barb mumbled.

 

"I guess so" I shrugged, pretending I didn't love it when she made movie references.

 

Barb paced back and forth chewing her pen and tweaking her glasses as she often did when she was thinking, her hair was tied up in a messy bun and her Batgirl suit was unzipped down to her waist like a mechanic's overalls.

 

Bruce looked a little worse for wear, brushing his stubbled face as he examined the screen of the Batcomputer still fully uniformed aside from the cape and cowl - it looked as though they'd been there for quite a while.

 

"Did you manage to catch anything from Stan?" He asked.

 

I explained everything I remembered about the conversation between Stan and the assassin, right up to his transformation into a giant bird.

 

"So it's some kind of organisation..." Bruce began.

 

"And it's all connected, Stan, Freeze, the Scarecrow," Barb continued.

 

"All of it," I concluded.

 

There were a few minutes of silence as Bruce tapped away at the keys. Barbara put down her notepad and placed her hand on my arm, stroking it with her thumb. Our eyes met as they often did - becoming fixed to one another, entranced. It was easy to forget when she wasn't around... How beautiful she was.

 

Bruce looked up from the Batcomputer, "Are you ready to get back out there?" My eyes broke away from Barb's as she looked sharply at Bruce.

 

"Bruce!" Barb interjected, it was nice to hear the care in her voice, "He needs to rest."

 

"I'm ready," I said, receiving a cutting look from Barbara as I did.

 

"Good," Bruce said.

 

"At least go home and collect one of your other suits," Barbara insisted, pointing at the suit I'd been wearing which was heaped on the floor near my feet.

 

"Fine," Bruce surrendered, "Alfred will take you home."

 

"Alright," I replied.

 

"We still have a few hours til dawn, you should go to Detective Yin - from what you said, she could be in danger."

 

Alfred delivered me safely to the apartment building soon after. We pulled up outside, and the old butler sighed, "Are you sure you don't need some rest, Master Grayson?"

 

"I'm fine, honestly," I replied.

 

"If you're sure, sir," Alfred said, he didn't believe me.

 

"Actually, I do have a favour to ask," I said, something I'd forgotten to mention to him had occurred to me.

 

"Oh?" Alfred said, intrigued.

 

"Yeah, I need your help with something... A gift"

 

"A gift, sir?"

 

"For a friend, I'll email you some details soon."

 

"Very good, sir," He smiled.

 

I climbed from the car and smiled back down at Alfred, "See you soon, Alf."

 

"Be safe, Master Grayson," He said before driving off into the distance.

 

I walked inside and made my way to the apartment. I opened the door to find Roy asleep on the sofa and a spilt bottle of Corona on the rug in front of the TV.

 

"Gah," He gasped, bolting upright, "Don't you knock?"

 

"No, I tend to just walk in... Since it's my apartment."

 

"Fair point, good patrol?" Asked Roy.

 

"Not at all."

 

I explained to Roy as briefly as I could the events of the evening including my unfortunate experience with Vertigo.

 

"Yeah, drugs'll do that to ya," He sighed sarcastically.

 

"Speaking from experience?" I asked.

 

"Hey, I'll try anything once!"

 

"Uhm, fair enough?"

 

Roy shifted over and made a space on the couch for me to sit down. Throwing my bag over by the TV cabinet I did just that. "You gonna clean that up," I said, pointing at the beer that Roy had clearly spilt on the rug.

 

"Won't it just soak in?" He asked.

 

I rolled my eyes, "Your home must be lovely."

 

"Currently my home is my car," Roy sighed falsely, expecting a sympathetic response.

 

"Is this the part where you ask to stay here a little longer?" I said, rolling my eyes yet again.

 

"No..." He laughed, "I didn't think I needed to ask"

 

"I'm sure Melissa will love..." I paused and thought of Barbara again, the way she stroked my arm... How natural it all felt.

 

"You OK buddy?" Roy asked, snapping me back to reality.

 

"Yeah, just... Thinking," It had to be the Vertigo or something, maybe my own subconscious trying to sabotage me.

 

"Didn't you say you had to be somewhere?" Said Roy.

 

"Crap, yeah," I responded, jumping to my feet.

 

I walked over to the bookcase and opened the secret passage to my loft. It all looked so much more professional with the new equipment that Barb had installed. Three monitors lit up as I made my request, "I need the home address of Detective Ellen Yin," I'd followed her home, but I wasn't sure on the actual apartment number.

 

The high tech computer responded immediately bringing the location up on the screen.

 

I pulled on the heavily armoured uniform I'd been gifted, running my fingers along the red bat symbol on the chest. It was a pretty significant departure in style and weight to what I was used to, but it would have to do for now.

 

"Upload location to my visor display," I said to the computer.

 

I clipped on the domino mask and immediately in the corner were GPS coordinates of Yin's home.

 

Stretching my arms and legs seemed a good idea, it gave me a feel for the manoeuvrability which had undoubtedly been lessened by the armour - but not so much that it would slow me down in a fight.

 

"This place is cool," Roy said, startling me. I turned sharply to face him, he was fully costumed in his Red Arrow attire, "Nice hood, wonder where you got that idea."

 

"It's practical, in case of a fire," I rationalised.

 

"Sure, you will be hearing from my lawyers."

 

"What are you doing anyway?" I asked him.

 

"Coming with you," Said Roy with a grin.

 

"Oh no, absolutely not," I protested.

 

"Come on, I'll keep watch. I've been so bored sitting around all day."

 

"Fine, but I'm in charge."

 

"Ha, good one," He said, patting my shoulder patronisingly.

 

Yin's neighbourhood looked better sans the rain. Her apartment was on one of the highest floors of the building and was complete with its own balcony.

 

Roy and I looked down on it from the roof of the building directly across the street which was conveniently taller than the apartment block, meaning we could look down on her balcony.

 

"Well, her lights are on," Roy stated, pointing at the light visible through the glass balcony doors.

 

"I'm going in," I said, "You wait here, keep an eye on that exit."

 

"Yes, captain," Roy mocked.

 

I gave him a sarcastic smile and fired my grappling hook on to the roof of Yin's building so that I could swing easily on to the balcony. With little thought, I jumped from my perch and soared into a graceful landing. Quickly looking back over my shoulder Roy gave a thumbs up. Sure that his gesture was meant as an insult, I raised my middle finger with a smile before turning my attention to the glass door.

 

I could see a wall-mounted TV that was turned on to the 24-hour news channel. This wouldn't have been so curious but we were in the early hours of the morning, so it seemed a little odd. The couch facing the TV was unoccupied as far as I could tell. I had to go inside.

 

The balcony door slid open, it had been left unlocked. A voice blurted loudly from the TV as if it had been turned up to muffle all other noise in the area. I reached for the remote control on the arm of the couch and turned off the TV.

 

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" A voice shot from behind me. Turning slowly, I saw Yin with wet hair wearing nothing but a towel, aiming her pistol at my head, "You again... Here to shit on some more of my cases?"

 

"You're in danger," I told her, my hands in the air.

 

"I'm a cop, it's in the job description," She said, scowling and tightening her grip on the gun.

 

"Stan knows about you, I overheard him earlier tonight," I explained.

 

"You just can't stay out of anything can you?" She snapped, lowering her gun and moving toward the couch.

 

"You have to listen to me, and get out of town," I told her, making sure to lower my hands slowly so as not to give her an excuse to shoot me, I'd been shot enough times for one year.

 

"Yeah right, I'm not letting that bastard scare me," Said Yin, carefully placing her pistol on the glass coffee table.

 

I sighed, "It's not just him you have to worry about, he's working with some heavy hitters."

 

"Like who?" She asked.

 

"Mr Freeze."

 

"Well he's locked up," She said, flippantly turning to watch the TV.

 

I moved forward and stood in front of it, obstructing her view, "He's also in league with the Scarecrow."

 

"Never heard of him," Yin replied, tilting her head to look around me.

 

"He's the one who put Gordon in the hospital, we have reason to believe he orchestrated the Arkham breakout."

 

"Gordon's an old man... And our intel is that Freeze organised the breakout..."

 

I put my hands on my head, frustrated, "Ellen, can you put your pride to one side for one second?"

 

"Ellen?" She snarled stubbornly.

 

"Do you want to die?" I asked aggressively.

 

"Of course I don't!"

 

"Then you have to trust me, catch a train to Metropolis, Central City, anywhere! Just get away from the city while I sort this out."

 

"I am not going anywhere."

 

Sighing, I picked up her iPhone from the coffee table and added my number to her phonebook, "Look, if anything weird happens I want you to call me - and before you start, the number is untraceable."

 

She stood up and snatched the phone from my hand, "I can handle myself."

 

"I'm sure you think so, but these guys are not playing around."

 

"I'm going to pour myself a glass of wine, and go to bed," Yin said, getting to her feet, "As much as I'd love a superhero sleepover, I think you ought to leave."

 

"Fine," I said defeatedly, walking to the sliding balcony door. Yin smirked as I looked back through the glass door she was locking behind me - little did she know, I'd planted a bug in on her phone so that I could track her.

 

Roy and I arrived back at the apartment as daylight broke upon the horizon. Normally I'd have leapt straight into bed, but I had too much on my mind. I spent the early hours of the morning roaring through the streets on my motorcycle. First checking in at the hospital where Leslie explained that Nate would be waking up any day now. Then heading to the college library where Emily waited to greet me with a cup of coffee.

 

I flinched as I reached out for the cup, the first time my minor stab wounds had made a reappearance since the incident only a few hours before.

 

"Looking good, dude" Emily smiled.

 

"Thanks" I yawned.

 

"Rough night?" She asked as we made our way up the ancient library steps.

 

"You could say that."

 

"You went drinking with Roy didn't you."

 

"Not exactly," I said opening the door and gesturing Emily to step through.

 

"That dude is a bad influence."

 

"That dude is my roommate for the foreseeable future."

 

"That sucks."

 

"Nah, he's alright."

 

As we rounded a corner, Emily began, "I guess he - " but was cut off by a towering red-haired behemoth who walked directly into her, sending coffee flying everywhere and soaking her through.

 

The man snarled, "Watch where you're going, girl." He looked over at me, and his frown grew more substantial, it was Roland Daggett, my girlfriend's insufferable father.

 

"Mr Daggett," I nodded curtly.

 

"Circus boy" He mocked, "I suppose I'll be seeing you this evening."

 

"This evening?"

 

"Yes, my daughter has insisted you attend."

 

"Attend?"

 

Without answering me, Roland huffed and turned his nose up at me and strode out of the library doors.

 

"That asshole, do you know how hard it was to get my hands on this?" Emily growled pointing at the large coffee stain on her 'Suck it and See' T-shirt.

 

"I do, I remember you bidding on eBay for it," I lamented.

 

"Alex Turner himself wore this," Emily said like it was an incontestable fact.

 

"So you say..."

 

"So MadHatter247 says!"

 

"A trustworthy alias if ever I'd heard one," I said sarcastically.

 

"I gotta go clean up, I'll meet you at the usual table."

 

"We have a usual table?"

 

"Dude..."

 

"Alright, alright, see you in there" We went our separate ways, and I sat down at one of the many unoccupied tables in the centre of the library.

 

Between the two most massive bookshelves there was a large wooden door with 'office' written on it - beside the door a blonde girl with a long white t-shirt and fishnet stockings leaning against one of the shelves suspiciously, trying her best to look incognito. I examined the girl as she peered left and right pretending to look at her phone.

 

The door opened after a minute, and Professor Crane walked out, turning left and walking behind the bookshelves which led to one of the side exits. Leaving a few seconds between them, the girl began to pursue the professor.

 

This was weird, I thought as I hopped to my feet.

 

The girl power walked after Crane with loud, blatant footsteps.

 

"What the hell!" She gasped as I appeared in front of her. Seeing her nose ring up close I realised the girl was Stephanie, who I'd seen fighting in the courtyard and seen again at the hospital with Leslie.

 

"Why are you stalking a teacher?" I asked.

 

"Do I know you?" She responded, examining my face with a frown.

 

"No"

 

"Then move, jackass" She barged into my shoulder and continued to follow Crane. I ran to catch up and began walking beside her. "Why are you following me?"

 

"I just watched you wait around for a Crane and then chase after him, that's weird."

 

She stamped her foot down and halted just before the side exit "Look, I -" She stopped a second, looking directly into my eyes. More calmly now she said, "I guess I've frickin lost him now, douchewad."

 

"Douchewad?"

 

"Yeah, it means weird guy who follows me."

 

"Huh?"

 

"I remember you breaking up that fight, and appearing at the hospital... You're cute and everything, but I prefer my men a little less 'stalkery'" Stephanie said, "If I wanna follow a teacher around what's it to you?"

 

"Jesus, forget I said anything - go about your stalking," I said, beginning to walk away.

 

"What if I wanna stalk you now?" She said, following me.

 

I could see Emily sat down at a table looking over at me with a frown.

 

"Your girlfriend looks a little jealous, I'd better shoot" She smiled, seemingly a genuine smile, "See you around, Dick."

 

"You know my name? You're definitely a stalker."

 

"Everyone knows your name... I'm Steph if you wanted to get my name tattooed on you somewhere... Freak."

 

 


	14. One Little Owl

Melissa called me after I'd left the library that morning to tell me about her father's birthday party which was apparently what he'd been referring to when we had our encounter. As much as I didn't want to attend, I had to keep up appearances. My mind wandered for most of the afternoon, hovering over various topics. Was it fair to carry on going steady with Melissa when I kept thinking about Barb? What was Stephanie doing following Professor Crane? And why did she seem so damned familiar?

 

The whirlpool of thoughts only became worse with the addition of keeping an eye on Yin, worrying about the Owl, the Scarecrow, Stan...

 

It was only when Melissa planted a kiss on my cheek that the world around me sprung back into focus. I was sitting on the couch in my apartment, Roy was next to me munching loudly on Doritos, and I was staring blankly at Pamela Anderson running in slow motion on the TV.

 

"Baywatch?" Melissa asked.

 

"Apparently" I replied, wide-eyed.

 

"If he had his way we'd be watching Ned Stark lose his head for the fiftieth time," Roy said, through a full mouth of food.

 

Melissa looked at him and rolled her eyes, "How much longer did you say you were staying?"

 

Roy didn't answer, he merely grinned, flashing his Dorito-filled teeth.

 

"Can I have a look at your suits?" Melissa asked, turning her attention to me.

 

"Sure?" I replied, perplexed.

 

"For tonight? I wanted to make sure our outfits didn't clash," She explained.

 

"I have two suits, both black," I told her with a smile.

 

"Two? You were adopted by a billionaire?"

 

"I left a lot of stuff at the manor."

 

"Clearly," She said, rolling her eyes again, "What about ties, surely you've got more than two?"

 

"More than two? Of course," I said, pausing, "More than three? No."

 

Melissa got up and strolled over to the bedroom, opening the wardrobe and beginning to rummage.

 

"If you were single, you could just watch Baywatch tonight and not have to go to any parties," Roy said with a smirk.

 

"I heard that!" Came Melissa's voice.

 

I continued to watch the TV in a daze as David Hasselhoff traversed the beach in super slow motion, on his way to save lives in some ridiculous way. Then again who was I to talk?

 

"Hey," Melissa said, reentering the room "Why do you have a bow and arrow in your wardrobe?"

 

Roy spat out his Doritos, and we looked at each other with wide-eyes. That idiot could have put his bow anywhere, but no, the bottom of the wardrobe seemed like a perfectly safe and secret place.

 

"I used to do archery... On weekends... At the Manor?" I said, stammering to think.

 

"So you brought this, but only two suits? Typical" She sighed, placing the bow and quiver down on the bed and resuming her search.

 

"Leave anything else in there?" I whispered angrily at Roy.

 

"No, I don't think so," He replied.

 

"Good," I snapped, striking him on the back of the head "Idiot."

 

The party was as extravagant as one would expect from an egotistical pharmaceutical mogul billionaire such as Daggett. Walls were adorned with pictures of the man himself and happy birthday banners which neglected to reveal the man's age, likely because he was much older than he'd want anyone to know.

 

Roy had agreed to run surveillance on Yin's apartment for the evening so that I didn't have to worry too much or duck out unexpectedly. Bruce had decided against attending the event, putting his focus on our investigation.

 

The guests were the usual Gotham socialites, people I had little to no interest in speaking to. Aside from perhaps Harvey Dent who waved across at our table from the bar. Due to my new position as boyfriend to the heiress Daggett, I'd been given the honour of sitting at the main table with Melissa, her father, Silver St. Cloud and a couple of Daggett's business associates.

 

Roland waved his large hairy fingers and signalled a waiter, "More champagne!" He demanded in his usual impolite manner. Slamming his fist down on the table his attention shifted in my direction, something I'd feared since we sat down only fifteen minutes prior.

 

"So, boy," He said in a tone of mock-politeness, "Silver tells me you're quite the gymnast?"

 

Silver flashed her pearly teeth at me as if she'd done me some kind of favour "Oh?" I said with my own mock-tone of interest.

 

"Says you could have been in the Olympics if you'd wanted," He said, his tone shifting more towards its natural dickishness as he scooped a chubby hand into a bowl of fried shrimp.

 

"I don't know about that," I said modestly.

 

"Sounds about right," Daggett replied, rolling his eyes and slurping on a shrimp.

 

"Daddy!" Melissa snapped, "Give it a rest."

 

"What, I'm just saying," Roland replied, "Spoiled kid, could have made something of himself but took the easy path."

 

Melissa's mouth opened in shock, and she looked at me apologetically. I responded with a laugh.

 

"Nothing to say, boy?" He continued, baiting me.

 

"Not really," I replied, nonchalantly.

 

"Too lazy to even defend yourself, typical."

 

"Yep" I smirked, watching the veins on his pink forehead begin to throb.

 

"Suppose that's what happens when you grow up without a mother," He said, casually taking a sip from his champagne flute. He went there. He really went there... It didn't shock me to hear words like that coming from a man as vile as he was, but from the looks of shock on Silver and Melissa's faces, you'd think the words had come from somebody respectable.

 

"You know," I responded, doing my best to continue sounding smug, "I wouldn't have thought a guy your size could suffer from small man syndrome."

 

Everyone at the table was silent, the businessman sat to my left looked away with embarrassment, his wife doing the same.

 

"Excuse me?" Roland growled, curling a fist on the table. I looked directly at his hairy ringed fingers as they clenched together tightly, inviting him to respond with violence.

 

"It's just that you're so large," I said, looking him up and down, "And so important, in your own mind at least, it's crazy that you'd be so intimidated by me."

 

"Intimidated? By you!" He snarled, "Listen here, you entitled little shit, I don't care who your adopted daddy is, I will kick your ass all the way back to Wayne Manor."

 

I stood up, slamming my hands on the table, "I dare you to try," I snarled.

 

Roland stood up in response, nearly tipping the table over, causing Silver to gasp.

 

"I'm going to the bathroom," Melissa said, standing up. I felt her hand grasp my jacket ", And so are you!"

 

I was swiftly dragged away from the table, she was stronger than she looked. We waded through the crowd forcibly hand in hand, her grip tightening as we went.

 

"What the hell, Grayson?" She snapped.

 

"What? The guy's an asshole," I replied, perhaps a little too honestly.

 

"That may be, but he's my father, and it's his birthday."

 

"He brought my mother into it," I protested.

 

"I know, I know - god, I can't believe he did that," She shook her head as we walked out on to the large balcony which overlooked much of the city. Two other couples were out looking at the moonlit buildings, one romantically conjoined arm in arm - the other was very much opposite, using one another as props as they swayed drunkenly from side to side.

 

"Look," Melissa said as we approached the fenced ledge, "I'll talk to him, I agree he went way too far."

 

"Thanks," I said.

 

"But he's never going to accept you when you wind him up like that. If I hadn't pulled you away, he'd probably have hit you," Melissa explained.

 

"Accept me? Sorry but, when did I start dating your father?" I asked, snarkily.

 

"Grayson..." Melissa sighed.

 

"No, really, why should I care what some pompous, egotistical douchewad thinks of me?" I asked.

 

"Douchewad?" Melissa laughed

 

"Yeah, it means... Never mind."

 

"Do you want me to take you seriously?" Melissa asked earnestly.

 

"Of course," I replied, and I meant it.

 

"Well, my father is important to me," She explained.

 

"But he's such a..."

 

"I think I've figured out your opinion on him by now," She said, and laughed again, "And I know he's not perfect..."

 

"Putting it mildly."

 

"But, he's still my father. And I want you guys to get on."

 

"What if I promise to try."

 

"Try, but try hard."

 

"Oh trust me, it's gonna be hard."

 

The dinner passed as slowly and pleasantly as an evening with Killer Croc... If Killer Croc was a giant dick head who's head was so far up his... You get the picture.

 

I soon found myself on the balcony once again, this time it was much busier as the eating portion of the party was over. Everyone's favourite part had begun, the dancing, but three songs in I had to take a break.

 

"Roy," I whispered covertly into my watch.

 

"Sup," Came his voice loudly in my earpiece.

 

"Anything suspicious to report?" I asked.

 

"No sir," He said with a crunch.

 

"Are you eating?"

 

"Of course, I've been sat on a rooftop staring at nothing for over an hour, I'm bored," He said, blasé as ever.

 

"Yeah, sorry," I replied.

 

"You will be, she's got the curtains closed, but she hasn't moved from the TV since I got here."

 

"Got thermals on her?" I asked.

 

"Yeah, I'm not an amateur," Said Roy, before burping loudly.

 

"I'll make my way over there as soon as I can - this should be winding down any time now."

 

"Take your time, party animal, Harper out."

 

I took out my phone and sent an encrypted message, I was planning to drop in on Spoiler on my way to Roy. She replied almost instantly with: usual spot?

 

I confirmed the meeting place and headed back inside to find Melissa, who had unfortunately decided to combat the awkwardness at the dinner table by drinking copious amounts of champagne. Lucky we were at her penthouse.

 

"Hey!" She slurred, throwing her arms over my shoulders.

 

"Hey, you," I said in my, talking to a drunk person, voice.

 

"I knew you could do it" She smiled.

 

"Do what?" I asked.

 

"Not upset my father, good job!" She said.

 

"Anything for you," I laughed.

 

"Aw, you're sweet," She stumbled forward and laughed.

 

"Maybe you ought to go to bed."

 

"Good idea, it's that'a way!" She pointed to a door at the other end of the large bar area. I supported her slightly with a linked arm, and we hobbled slowly over to the door. The door was locked with a key code which Melissa typed in slowly enough for me to catch '2256'.

 

"This way," She pointed.

 

Her room wasn't too far, we passed two open doors for an office and some kind of living area. All noise from the party was completely blocked out by the time we'd gotten to Melissa's room. I flicked on the light to see the immaculately decorated chamber, which frankly was precisely how I'd imagine it.

 

Melissa threw herself on the bed dramatically.

 

"Will you stay with me?" She asked with a cheeky drunken grin.

 

"That's a terrible idea" I laughed.

 

"I know, my father would kill you... For real," She giggled.

 

"What did he think when you stayed over at my place?"

 

"He's oblivious when it's not under his roof... It's not like I tell him we have sex," She said, and then began to giggle and snort. Realising she'd made a noise like a pig she covered her mouth in embarrassment, "Sorry!" She laughed again.

 

"Don't be, it's cute," She was cute, amazing in fact - and I did really like her. Maybe all these thoughts about Barb were just my brain rebelling because I was happy.

 

"Do you need anything before I go?" I asked.

 

"You're leaving!?" Melissa replied, gasping dramatically.

 

"Yeah, you need to get some rest."

 

"I know, but I'll miss you," She said, sticking out her bottom lip.

 

"You'll be asleep about 30 seconds after I close the door."

 

"At least unzip my dress."

 

"Fine," I said, edging towards her as she sat up. She moved her long blonde hair over her shoulder, and I zipped the dress down for her. Standing up she let it fall down and smiled. I pulled back the bed sheets and gestured her in like a chauffeur opening a car door.

 

"Y'know, I think I might..." Melissa began as she laid down and I covered her with the sheet.

 

"Might what?"

 

"Never mind, I'll tell you later."

 

"OK," I smiled, planting a kiss on her forehead, "I'll call you in the morning."

 

"You better," She mumbled as she closed her eyes. I turned out the light, quietly closed the bedroom door and made my way back down the corridor to the party which grew louder as I got closer.

 

The office door we'd passed before was now closed, and a light was on. As I walked by, I heard a loud voice puncture the air.

 

"Sorted the problem?!" The voice shouted, "I thought he was dealing with it himself?"

 

The voice paused, he was apparently on the phone.

 

"Ran out of time? Ridiculous. I'm going back to my party," It was Roland Daggett.

 

I heard a slamming which I could only assume was the phone being put down forcefully. He approached the door with speed I didn't know he was capable of, which didn't give me enough time to get to the main entrance.

 

"What are you doing back here?" He snarled "Where's Melissa?"

 

"I was helping her to bed," I replied.

 

"I know what that means..." Roland sniped.

 

"No, Roland, you don't," I snapped, "It means exactly what it means, I helped her get to bed, she's asleep in her room."

 

Roland approached me, puffing his chest out to assert his masculinity. His hairy sausage of a finger met me at eye level, the glint from his ugly silver ring forcing me to blink, "You are not good enough for her," He growled, "You're just a bump in the road, something we'll joke about at my next birthday party."

 

"Whatever you say, I'm not going anywhere... I'll make sure to get you something nice for that next birthday party."

 

Before he could respond, I turned and charged through the door, disappearing into the crowd.

 

Spoiler was sat cross-legged on the rooftop when I finally arrived. Her head was bobbing up and down to the rhythm of her earphones. I used the opportunity to approach and give her a fright. As I edged towards her, I thought in my head about the hilarious reaction I was going to get.

 

So, when she swung 180 degrees and swept my leg, knocking me flat on my back, I was more than a little surprised.

 

"Ha!" She exclaimed, pointing down at me. "You thought I had music on!"

 

"Oh please," I said, pulling myself up, "I knew all along."

 

"You so did not!"

 

"Sorry to burst your bubble, but I did," I really, really didn't.

 

"What's with the suit, and the hood - I nearly thought I had the wrong guy?" Spoiler asked.

 

"Trying out a new look," I said, shrugging.

 

"Whatever, loser, what's up anyway?"

 

"Thanks.." I said with a scowl, "Firstly I need your measurements."

 

"Excuse me?"

 

"You know, your sizes... Waist, neck, height et cetera."

 

"Like I'm gonna tell you my waist size."

 

"Fine... I can probably guess anyway," I said, looking her up and down patronisingly.

 

"I'll text them to you."

 

"Thank you."

 

"So what else?" She asked.

 

"I'm putting the training on hold," I said, bracing myself for her response.

 

"What?! No, absolutely not!" She snapped aggressively.

 

"I was taken down yesterday, and it could have been bad. I don't want you getting hurt."

 

"Taken down? Then you need me!" She shouted.

 

"If we'd been doing this longer, maybe," I sighed,.

 

"You can't do this to me, not again," She said, stamping her foot.

 

"I get that this is important to you, but right now it's too risky."

 

"You have no idea how important this is to me," She growled, angrier than I'd ever heard her before, "Why did I get stuck with the part-time teacher, god! Superman would be here every fricking day showing me what to do."

 

"Superman works alone, to be fair..." I said, shrugging a little.

 

"Oh yeah because you know him because you're Nightwing," She said, beginning to mock me, "Ooh I'm Nightwing, I'm too important to train people because I know all the superheroes."

 

"You think this is gonna change my mind?" I laughed turning away from her to walk away.

 

"Whatever, sidekick."

 

"What?" I said, turning back around.

 

"You heard me, Robin," Spoiler said, folding her arms.

 

"I am not Robin."

 

"You are so Robin"

 

"Ohh Batman, let me carry your bags while you save Gotham," She mocked.

 

"You are such a D-" My communicator beeped to signal that I'd received a text message. I raised my hand to silence Spoiler, the message appeared on my HUD:

 

Detective Yin: Get over here ASAP, need help!

 

"I gotta go," I said, and began to run towards Yin's building.

 

"Oh no, you're not getting away that easy!" Spoiler shouted.

 

I ignored her and opened comms with Roy, "Arrow, what's Yin doing?!"

 

"Still watching TV," Roy said with a crunch.

 

"She just messaged me saying she needs help."

 

"I'm telling you, man, she hasn't moved," He insisted.

 

"Something isn't right here," I paused for a second to jump off the building and swing to the next.

 

"Want me to go in?" Roy asked.

 

"No, keep an eye on her until I get there - she doesn't know you, no need to freak her out."

 

"Maybe she's asking you over for... Y'know," Roy said.

 

"Really?" I asked, exhaustedly.

 

"What, it's happened to me before."

 

"I bet it has."

 

Roy was perched in the same spot he'd waited in previously, overlooking Yin's apartment. Sure enough, the thermals from his binoculars didn't detect anything unusual in the apartment, and the detective appeared to be watching TV.

 

"I don't like this," I said.

 

"You don't like anything," Roy replied.

 

"She hasn't moved since you got here, you don't find that a little strange? That's a long while to not have been for a pee or anything."

 

"Maybe a little. She could just have a really strong bladder?" Roy shrugged.

 

Roy and I turned to look at each other as a sudden noise of footsteps clanking on metal began to approach us. His bow was loaded and taut as quickly as my escrima sticks were unsheathed. My panic subsided quickly as the purple-clad Spoiler reached the top of the fire escape.

 

"I told you... You weren't..." She panted "Getting away that easy"

 

"You know this chick?" Roy asked, relaxing his bow.

 

"Chick?" Spoiler growled as she tried to catch her breath.

 

"Spoiler, stay here with..." I paused and tried to whisper "Are you Arsenal, or Red Arrow right now?"

 

"Dude..." Roy said with a scowl.

 

"Stay here with Speedy," I grinned.

 

"Speedy?" Spoiler laughed.

 

"Spoiler?" Roy retorted.

 

I fired my line over to the building opposite and leapt at the precise moment of connection, soaring somewhat gracefully on to the balcony. The drapes were pulled shut, but a small gap allowed me to peer inside before I entered. To my relief, I could see the back on Yin's head. The detective was, as Roy had told me, sat on the couch watching TV.

 

I gently wrapped my knuckles on the glass to get her attention - no answer. I tried again, this time slightly louder - no answer. Once more, much louder... Still no answer.

 

This wasn't right, I had to go in. Unholstering my sticks for the second time that evening, I slid open the door which once again hadn't been locked. The room was immaculate, as it was on my last visit. The main light was off, lamp light seemed to give the place a softer atmosphere.

 

"Ellen?" I called to her, crouching defensively, checking every doorway. "Yin?" I called again to no avail. Switching to thermals it seemed there was no one else in the apartment, so I moved closer.

 

I put my hand on the detective's shoulder, causing her head to slouch backwards. Her eyes were wide open, but she wasn't looking at me. Her once luminous skin had turned a pale white, and her mouth was agape. She'd been dead for hours.

 

I felt a lump in my throat as I looked down at her left arm, which was tied round with a piece of string, beneath which was a distinct bleeding needle mark. The AC above her had been set to the highest temperature, giving the impression to Roy that she was still alive.

 

In front of the body, laid out neatly on the coffee table was a needle and various drug apparatus, including a spoon and some powder which looked a lot like Vertigo.

 

"Everything good?" Said Roy's voice in my ear.

 

"She's dead," I replied coldly.

 

"What? How?"

 

I was ready to explain, when a smell overpowered me, a stench of death, of rotting flesh. Ellen Yin was dead, but she wasn't that dead.

 

A creaking floorboard was my only warning, but it was enough. Spinning on the spot, I managed to deflect the throwing knife in time with my escrima sticks, sending it flying across the room. The Owl stood in the doorway to Yin's bedroom, brandishing a pair of large hooked blades.

 

I wasn't going to lose this time. Leaping forward I launched myself at him with a strike which he managed to block with one of his knives, taking the opportunity he attempted to slice at my stomach. Quickly, I pulled myself backwards, narrowly avoiding the blade.

 

Slashing frantically the Owl forced me back into the centre of the room. I met a downward strike of his blade with a firm kick to his torso, following with a double hit on his crown with both of my sticks.

 

"Had enough, birdy?" I taunted.

 

The feathered assassin didn't utter a word.

 

We began to circle, staring each other off with our weapons at the ready. The Owl flailed, not to injure me, but intending to make me flinch. I didn't flinch. He swiped again, this time meeting the escrima stick in my right hand. With a counter-swing, I knocked the blade flying from his hand.

 

The circling continued.

 

"You're gonna pay for what you've done," I told him.

 

"Do you truly believe you'll win?" The creature hissed.

 

"I truly believe there's a padded cell in Arkham with your name on it," I retorted.

 

"Locking me up will not stop us."

 

"It's a start!" I exclaimed, flying forward once more, this time connecting a fist with his jaw. My feathered friend seemed to have been caught off guard and fell flat on his back with a mighty thud.

 

Seemingly out cold, the birdman twitched for a second, and his head flopped to the side. As quickly as I could, I pulled out a pair of cuffs and approached the limp assassin. Hand outstretched to grab his wrist, I got what I should have been expecting. His blade clinked against the hard body armour that protected my chest.

 

A hard kick to the shin knocked me off balance, giving him a second to get to his feet. I was ready to take him down, but it didn't matter. An object pierced the purple drapes and hit the Owl on the upper right of his back.

 

Face-first, my opponent hit the floor, with a much harder thud than before. A red arrow protruding from his back.

 

"Relax," Roy said before I could complain "It was a non-lethal hit."

 

The red archer cautiously entered the room, Spoiler in tow.

 

"Nice place," Spoiler said, looking around. Her eyes caught sight of Yin, "Holy shit!" She exclaimed, her hands clapping to her mouth.

 

Putting an arm out to stop the girl running to help her I said, "It's too late, she's gone"

 

"Vertigo overdose," Roy said, "Didn't think she'd be the type."

 

"She wasn't," I said, pointing at the Owl "It was him"

 

"Why'd he stick around if he wanted it to look like an accident?"

 

"Your guess is as good as mine."

 

"He text you right?" Spoiler asked.

 

"Yeah, it had to be him," I said with a nod.

 

"Then maybe he was gonna set you up."

 

"She has a point," Roy said.

 

"Thanks," Spoiler replied excitedly.

 

"If that's true then we need to get him tied..." I began but was stopped by the sight of two identical Owl-masked assassins standing in the doorway. One holding a Katana, the other a knife similar to the ones owned by the assassin I'd been fighting.

 

My opponent got to his feet and ripped the arrow from his back without so much as a wince, "I am but a Talon," He began, "A Talon on the claw of a much larger beast."

 

The 'Talon' with the katana sheathed his sword, and with inhuman speed flung a pellet at the floor. All three men vanished in the puff of smoke that followed.

 

"After them!" I shouted, running toward the balcony. The three Talons were already atop the adjacent roof and running away fast. Attaching my line, I swung straight past the building in the hope of heading them off. Roy, Spoiler wrapped around his waist, followed as fast as he could.

 

The buildings were level now, so it was just a case of being faster than the enemy who had about a hundred metres on me. Luckily I was fast.

 

With every leap and bound I seemed to be getting closer. I launched a batarang in the hope of knocking the centre owl off balance, to my surprise he caught it without even looking and then flipped in the air, launching a rotating knife at my head.

 

I dodged, following it with my head and eyes as it passed me. Which was when I realised I wasn't the target. Stopping dead I shouted, "Spoiler, get down!"

 

Too late, the blade pierced the girl's arm and knocked her to the ground.

 

"Shit!" Spoiler shouted. I thought the same as I looked behind me again, the Talons were gone.

 

Roy pulled Spoiler to her feet as I approached them "Why'd you stop?" She snarled.

 

"You're hurt," I replied.

 

"I'm fine, it only hit me in the arm!" She shouted, "They killed your friend, you could have stopped them."

 

"Your safety comes first, and considering you shouldn't have even been here in the first place I have to be extra careful."

 

"Oh, screw you douchewad, I was trying to help!"

 

"Stephanie?"


	15. Murder Of Crows

The apartment had seen better days. But in all honesty it had seen worse ones too, it was just a different kind of messy. The secret bookcase door hung wide open, and the couch was strategically placed by the entrance to stop any unwanted intruders. On it was a heap of colourful costumes, purple, black and red under three empty pizza boxes.

 

Myself, Roy and Stephanie sat in a triangle on the floor in front of the TV, Netflix was signalling for us to 'Continue Watching.' Stephanie had on one of my larger T-shirts and a pair of my finest Gotham University sweatpants, her arm was bandaged up where the knife had hit it. Roy was flexing in a vest and boxer shorts, and I'd gone for a combination of vest and sweatpants.

 

Considering we were usually a talkative bunch, it had been reasonably silent between arriving at the apartment, ordering the pizza, receiving it and eating it.

 

"So Bruce Wayne is Batman right?" Stephanie said suddenly, breaking the silence.

 

"What? No!" I lied.

 

"Whatever man, it's so obvious now I know you're Nightwing," She said, laughing.

 

"She has a point," Roy said.

 

"Shut up, Roy," I said, "I'm gonna be in enough shit with Batman over this."

 

"Aw, you gonna be in twubble?" Steph mocked.

 

"Look," Roy began, reaching into his rucksack, "I think I have the perfect solution for this shitty night," In his hand was a large bottle of Jack Daniels.

 

Steph smiled in response, I wasn't as pleased with the idea, but I couldn't deny I needed something to help me relax.

 

Roy returned from the kitchen with three large glasses, filling them each with ice and an inch of the whiskey.

 

"I say we play a game," He suggested.

 

"What game?" Steph replied.

 

"Never have I ever?"

 

"Good idea!" She replied, grinning at me.

 

"No," I began, "I'm not..."

 

"I'll start - never have I ever..." She said, ignoring me completely, "Been drunk."

 

As per the rules of the game, having been drunk in our lives, Roy, Steph and I all took drinks.

 

"That's your question?" I laughed.

 

"I wanted to start easy," She grinned.

 

"Alright, alright," Roy interrupted, "Never have I ever, slept with an alien"

 

Steph raised her eyebrow and looked at me, I paused for a second and then took a sip - glaring at Roy as I did.

 

"What?!" Steph exclaimed, "That is such bullshit."

 

"No, he did," Roy laughed, "An alien princess no less."

 

"Can we move on?" I insisted.

 

"Sure, it's your turn."

 

"Alright..." I thought for a second "Never have I ever... Been kicked out of school," The comment was aimed at Roy, but Steph drank too.

 

"I kicked a cheerleader into an empty swimming pool" She explained after taking a gulp.

 

"Seriously?" I asked.

 

"Bitch had it coming," Steph explained coldly.

 

"Cold..." Roy said, "She die?"

 

"Nope, she wore a full body cast to prom though," She said, "Of course, I didn't get to see it, they'd thrown me out by then."

 

"Nice," Roy laughed.

 

I gave him a judging look, and in my best impression of Bruce I said: "You'd better be more careful out in the field."

 

"Lighten up, it was years ago," Steph smiled, "What did you get kicked out for?"

 

"Which school?" Roy smirked, puffing his chest out impressively.

 

"Sorry, didn't realise I was in the presence of a badass," Steph said sarcastically.

 

"Captain Badass was his first choice for a codename when he joined the Titans," I laughed.

 

"Quiet you... Let me think... I guess the worst one was when I TP'd the gym and it caught fire" Roy said, proudly.

 

"Ouch," She laughed, "Still, I was expecting worse, can we circle back to the sleeping with an alien thing?" She turned to me, "Were you like, in peril in outer space? Planet of the Nymphos or something?"

 

"Do you think this is Star Trek?" I replied, raising an eyebrow.

 

"I wouldn't know, I don't watch it," She shrugged.

 

"I'll tell Captain Kirk you said that," I joked.

 

"Captain Kirk is real?"

 

"Thought you didn't watch it?"

 

"Shut up, next question," She said, pausing for a second, "Oh wait, my turn. OK... Never have I ever..."

 

She was interrupted by a loud bump as the door opened slightly and hit the back of the sofa. The three of us leapt to our feet and turned to the door.

 

"Expecting visitors?" Roy whispered.

 

"No!" I whispered back, slowly reaching for my costume.

 

"Grayson, stop messing around," Came a voice from behind the door, it was Melissa.

 

"Melissa, what are you doing here?" I asked.

 

"Oh shit, is that your girlfriend?" Stephanie laughed.

 

"Shut up!"

 

"Who's that, Grayson, who are you with?" Melissa said, pushing on the door again.

 

"Uh, nobody," I said, frantically scrambling to grab the costumes from the sofa, "Let me just tidy up a sec and move the sofa" I thrust the outfits into Steph's hands and signalled Roy to rush the booze into the kitchen.

 

"Why is the sofa behind the door?" Melissa shouted.

 

"I'm spring cleaning," I called, pushing my guests through the bookcase door and closing it behind them.

 

"At 7:30am?" Melissa said, looking puzzled as I slid the sofa to one side and let her in. She squinted and peered around the room "Well you've done a fine job," She nodded toward the pizza boxes. Last I'd seen her she was somewhat drunk, so I assumed I'd be dealing with her hangover, but as usual, she looked flawless.

 

"Why are you here if it's 7:30?" I asked.

 

"You could try and sound a little happy to see me," She said, kissing me on the cheek.

 

"I'm always happy to see you, it's just a little early," I smiled, "Can I take your coat?"

 

"No, I'm a little cold... Wait, three pizza boxes?" She said suddenly, turning to look at them, "You had some guests?"

 

"I uh, uhm" Lying was an essential part of my life, sad as that was to admit, but at that moment I had nothing. I could have sworn a vein was beginning to rise on Melissa's forehead when salvation appeared through the door.

 

Roy bounded into the room with his arm around Steph and a newspaper in his hand, "I thought you were tidying this place?" Roy said.

 

"I had pizza with them," I said, sighing with relief when Melissa turned to face them.

 

"Oh," She replied.

 

"You remember Roy?" I joked.

 

"Considering I saw him yesterday, yes," She said, humourlessly.

 

"This is his... Girlfriend, Stephanie," I said, gesturing towards her.

 

Steph's eyes widened, apparently horrified by the thought, while Roy's face became incredibly smug, clearly delighted by it.

 

"Hi, I'm Melissa," Melissa smiled at Steph, "I'm Grayson's girlfriend when he isn't disappearing or sleeping all day..."

 

"Oh thanks," I said.

 

Steph smiled back trying to look pleased with being perceived as Roy's girlfriend, "Pleased to meet you."

 

Roy burped loudly, causing Melissa to screw her face up, "So, how long have you been together?" She said, avoiding looking at Roy.

 

"Uhm, not long," Steph said.

 

"Like a day," Roy said, "Love at first sight you know, how could she resist?"

 

Steph rolled her eyes.

 

"Well, each to their own I suppose," Melissa turned to face me, "Can we talk in private?"

 

"Sure" I replied, gesturing to the bedroom.

 

We walked over to the bedroom and shut the door.

 

"She seems nice," Melissa said in a low voice, "Wonder what she sees in Roy."

 

"You know Roy, he's a real charmer" I laughed.

 

"Isn't he moving on soon?"

 

"It almost sounds like you don't like him being here..."

 

"Very funny..." She sighed "Anyway, I came over to say thank you."

 

"For what?"

 

"For looking after me when I was drunk, and fighting the temptation to hit my father, I really appreciate it," She smiled mischievously and planted a kiss on my lips.

 

Taking a step back, she untied the belt of her long coat, and let it slide to the floor. I immediately realised why she wouldn't let me take her coat.

 

She was stood smiling at me in nothing but her lacy black bra and panties.

 

Wide-eyed and grinning like a kid on Christmas I said: "I'm never going to be mean to your father ever again."

 

I kissed Melissa goodbye five separate times before she actually left. Her timing had been impeccable, and I thought if it wasn't for her having to get to class and Roy and Steph hadn't been in the next room we'd probably have spent the entire day in bed.

 

Roy and Steph were sat together on the sofa, their heads in their phones.

 

"That was gross," Steph said, looking up from her phone.

 

"Whatever," I smiled.

 

Roy brought my mood back down with little effort, "I checked in with Barb, they're reporting Yin's death as a suicide."

 

"Damn it," I growled.

 

"She's going to tell her father what really happened and see if she can aid the investigation."

 

"That's something I guess."

 

"I googled owls and Gotham," Steph said holding up her phone "Didn't come up with anything interesting. Apparently, the founding families of Gotham liked them though, lots of owl statues in some of the old buildings and shit like that."

 

"Maybe that's what gave them the idea," Roy suggested.

 

"Maybe," I said, pondering, "I think there's more to it than that though."

 

"What was it they called themselves?" Roy asked.

 

"Claws?" Steph said.

 

"No," I replied, "They called themselves Talons."

 

Steph began to type silently. Her eyes widened, "Holy shit."

 

"What is it?" I asked.

 

"A nursery rhyme."

 

"Is it relevant?"

 

She began to read aloud, "Beware the Court of Owls, that watches all the time, ruling Gotham from a shadowed perch, behind granite and lime. They watch you at your hearth, they watch you in your bed. Speak not a whispered word about them, or they'll send the Talon for your head."

 

"Well, that's creepy," Roy said, opening a packet of chips, "Anything else?"

 

"It's like this whole conspiracy theory, real Infowars type shit," Steph said, "There's an old picture here, look."

 

She showed me the phone, zooming on an old image that had been scanned in. It looked like some kind of masquerade ball. Five people were stood in a row, one woman and four men. Each was wearing an owl mask.

 

"It's a collection of rumours, but it's pretty messed up," Steph said, pulling the phone back and continuing to read, "The only name here Sebastian Clark, who apparently killed his own dad for writing a book about the court."

 

"Send me the link, I've got to get this info to the Batcave," I said.

 

"Done."

 

I opened my phone and read down the page. The information was scattered and vague, but there were a few points of note. The owner of the website had heavily implied that the Court still existed and ran Gotham from the behind the scenes. The information on the Talons ranged from stories about kidnapped orphans to an army of undead monsters.

 

"We need to find out who made this site," I said.

 

"One sec," Steph said, "I can check that."

 

"Thanks"

 

"Found him, Colin Birch, lived not far from me," Steph explained.

 

"Lived?"

 

"He died last year."

 

"Bastards," Roy cut in with a mouthful of food.

 

I continued to scroll to the bottom of the page, which ended with a single pixelated image, it looked very out of place as if it had been added in a rush. As I peered closer, I could make out that it was a very zoomed in image of a desk through someone's window. I squinted, and my stomach suddenly turned. Barely visible on the edge of the desk was a large silver ring, with two rubies encrusted on it.

 

Just like the one on Roland Daggett's finger.

 

"Shit."

 

***

 

My thoughts were spiralling out of control as I walked to class with Emily. I hated Daggett, no question, he was someone I'd disliked from the moment I'd met him, but somehow I was finding it hard to reconcile with the fact that he was a bonafide villain in cahoots with what appeared to be an evil secret society. And this was way too close to home.

 

"Dude, are you even listening?" Emily said, stopping in front of me and clicking her fingers.

 

"Of course" I lied.

 

"What did I say then?" She scowled, folding her arms.

 

"Something really interesting, as always" I smiled.

 

She punched me lightly on the arm "How was the party? You and Melissa's dad get on OK?"

 

"Party was OK, Melissa and I had a great time. Her dad peeled back a few layers from his asshole exterior..."

 

"Really?"

 

"To reveal more layers of asshole-ishness."

 

"Oh, is he really that bad?"

 

"Worse"

 

"Wow, that is bad." Said Emily "You seem happier though, with her I mean, I think she's good for you."

 

"Thanks, Em, that means a lot."

 

"Alright dude, don't like, cry or anything."

 

We shared a laugh.

 

Not long after, we arrived at class and took our respective seats. Emily next to her dim-witted friend and me next to Melissa, who kissed me on the cheek as I sat down. I had to shake off my feelings concerning her father, for the time being, it wasn't her fault he was so very terrible.

 

She whispered in my ear "Make sure if you speak to Crane, you cough a lot."

 

"Why?" I whispered back.

 

"Because you missed class yesterday, I told him you were sick."

 

"Oh right, of course, thanks."

 

"Don't mention it," She said, holding my hand "You want to come over tonight?"

 

"To your place?"

 

"Yeah"

 

"What about your dad?"

 

"He's out for a meal with Silver?"

 

For once, that wasn't good news, I'd have liked to speak to him "In that case, I'm there" I smiled. I could at least use it as an excuse to rummage through his stuff.

 

"Good, I can't wait to spend some time alone together"

 

"Me neither."

 

"Something you'd like to share with the class, Mr Grayson?" Crane said, appearing as if from nowhere.

 

"No sir" I coughed "Just catching up on yesterday's lesson, because you know, I was so sick."

 

"Yes, maybe they should have considered putting you down" He droned "Miss Daggett is an exceptional student, I'm starting to think I should seat you elsewhere to minimise the risk of your incredible ineptitude rubbing off on her."

 

"It's OK sir, I'll try and put him back on the straight and narrow" Melissa smiled.

 

"Very well, turn to page 131 of your textbooks, and we'll begin."

 

The night rolled around quickly that day, my anticipation seemed to have sped time up tremendously. I packed my armour-plated suit into the bottom of my gym bag and told Roy to be on standby. I sent a text to Steph who had promised to lay low until her arm was better, explaining my plan.

 

Bag Tethered to the back of my bike I sped off toward the centre of the city, arriving at the parking garage which was within walking distance of the Daggett's Penthouse. A conveniently placed dumpster in an alley next to the building made for a great place to hide my suit. The bag was fitted with a sensor which would alert me if anyone went near it.

 

On reception, I was greeted by a smiling Security Guard who had been given instructions to let me in the building.

 

"This way Mr Grayson, Miss Daggett is waiting for you upstairs," He said.

 

"Thanks" I smiled.

 

He gestured toward the elevator which pinged as the doors slowly opened. To my surprise, Silver and Roland stepped out, stopping when they saw me.

 

Silver looked incredibly glamorous in her long evening gown and her fur coat. Roland looked pink and uncomfortable as if he'd expended all of is energy forcing himself into a suit that was three sizes too small.

 

"Dick" Silver smiled, kissing me on the cheek "How are you?"

 

"Hey Silver, I'm great, thanks" I replied. I nodded at Roland who reluctantly nodded back, barely making eye contact with me. His face was looking extra punchable.

 

"Don't forget to tell Melissa she looks amazing" Silver whispered, "She spent a long time picking out that outfit, she was so nervous, it was adorable."

 

I chuckled "Don't worry I will."

 

"We'd better be going, have a great date!"

 

I waved them off as they stepped out and climbed into the back of a limousine which had pulled up in front of the building.

 

"Sir," The Security Guard said, gesturing once again to the elevator which he had stopped from closing with his foot.

 

I stepped in and gave the guard a curt nod as the doors closed.

 

Another ping later and I stepped out into the familiar penthouse. It looked much more significant than it had the last time now that there were no party-goers. In the middle of the large open-plan hall, was a small circular table with two chairs pulled up to it. In the centre of the table was a single rose in a glass vase. I couldn't help but smile.

 

"Take a seat!" A voice echoed from a doorway to my left. From the smell in the air, I could assume she was in the kitchen.

 

I sat down as ordered, trying to enjoy the moment while the thoughts of investigating Roland nibbled at the back of my brain.

 

The thoughts faded away as Melissa stepped out from the kitchen. She was wearing a dress which made my t-shirt and jeans combination feel quite cheap and nasty by comparison. The dress was long and flowing and matched her bright red lipstick.

 

They call it a moment of clarity when in an instant you come to accept a truth that was impossible to see before. And I was having one. All my doubts, the thoughts of Barb, melted away as she walked over to me.

 

I stood to greet her, unable to contain my childish grin.

 

"Sit down" She laughed, kissing me on the lips and lightly pushing me back into the chair.

 

"You look amazing," I said.

 

"Thank you."

 

"No, like, amazing."

 

"You're in a good mood" She giggled.

 

"Sit down," I said.

 

"I can't, I'm cooking!" She said, walking back toward the kitchen.

 

"In that dress?"

 

"Yes..." She snarled playfully "Admittedly I didn't really think this through. I'll be back in a second!"

 

I watched her walk speedily back through the kitchen door before, reappearing with a pair of oven gloves on which contrasted horribly with her magnificent dress. In her hands was a large metal dish.

 

"You like Spaghetti Bolognese, right?" She asked.

 

"Hate it," I said with a wink.

 

"Well you're gonna eat it, Grayson" She stopped suddenly on the spot "Shit! Plates!"

 

"It's OK I'll get them" I laughed.

 

"No, this is your treat, I'll be back, don't move!"

 

She again disappeared into the kitchen, this time for much longer.

 

I craned my neck to see what was going on, before hearing a loud crash and an exclamation of curse words that would have made even Roy blush.

 

"Melissa? Is everything OK?" I asked.

 

No answer.

 

I gave it a few seconds and called out again "Melissa?"

 

She didn't respond.

 

With that, I stood up and moved suspiciously to the kitchen. I could hear Melissa sobbing quietly as I peered around the door. She was sat in a heap on the floor surrounded by smashed plates with bolognese sauce on her beautiful dress.

 

"I'm sorry" She whispered as she looked up at me "I've made a total mess of everything."

 

I walked over to her, moving some of the debris with my foot and sitting down next to her on the kitchen floor. She was looking at me with tears in her eyes, I looked around the room and began to laugh.

 

"Hey!" She snapped "It's not funny, I really -"

 

"I love you," I said with a smile.

 

Melissa's expression shifted instantly to some kind of delighted shock "Excuse me?"

 

"You heard me."

 

"I... I love you too" She said, before bursting into tears again and throwing her arms around me. I kissed her passionately for a moment before helping her to her feet.

 

"Go get out of these clothes and I'll tidy up the mess," I said.

 

"No, I'll do it" She insisted.

 

"How about this, get changed quickly, and we'll sort it together."

 

"Fine" She scowled.

 

"I'll order the takeout."

 

I pressed the remote for the lounge lights, and they softly came back on as the movie's credits rolled, Melissa's head was resting on my chest. She gave out an adorable snort which could only mean that she was asleep. I kissed her on the head and stealthily moved myself out from under her. Before sneaking out of the room, I covered her with a blanket.

 

For an expensive building, the fire escape was very shaky. I clambered down it as quickly as I could to grab my gym bag.

 

It was an odd feeling to go from watching movies and cuddling with Melissa, to climbing into a dumpster and changing into my suit. At least with my equipment on I could get back up the building without having to use the fire escape again.

 

I pulled myself on to the balcony and crept into the hall. The table was still in the centre with the single rose on it. Activating sonar on my VISR I could see Melissa hadn't moved from the sofa, and that there was an empty panic room connected to the lounge, but other than that there didn't appear to be any secret rooms.

 

The elevator pinged, I quickly zipped up to the ceiling and grabbed on to the chain which held up the central light fitting above the table, turning off my sonar. Roland stepped out the elevator and looked around the room suspiciously.

 

"It's clear, my daughter must be in bed," He said quietly.

 

"Good," said another voice, it was muffled and strange, but it definitely wasn't Silver.

 

"Do you have to wear that in my home?" Daggett growled.

 

"Yes," Said the voice. He stepped from the elevator, revealing himself to be none other than the Scarecrow.

 

"I've had the place thoroughly checked for bugs."

 

"I prefer not to take any chances."

 

"Why are you here? I left my fiancee at a bar for this"

 

"It couldn't wait."

 

"Spit it out then!" Daggett barked.

 

The two men walked toward the balcony, stopping by the door.

 

"The Parliament feels that your actions of late have been too conspicuous."

 

"Meaning?"

 

"You are drawing too much attention."

 

"Ridiculous!"

 

"Using the Parliament's influence to become the Mayor..."

 

"Is my right!" Daggett snapped, not even trying to be quiet at this point "I've contributed to the Parliament for years! I brought you into the fold! And you dare to come into my home and say this to me?"

 

"The Parliament is aware of your contribution," Scarecrow said flatly "But you are to resign from the mayoral campaign, or there will be consequences."

 

"You jumped up little cretin, I gave you the components to make your shitty little compound! The drug that put you in the position you're in now and you choose to side with them! I will end you!" His large finger waving in the Scarecrow's masked face "This isn't even my doing, that idiot Stan has been getting himself in all the papers, his behaviour should not affect my freedom to do as I please."

 

"It's a simple request, Roland. And Stan is being taken care of"

 

"Well I deny your simple request, I'll speak directly to the court, I will not be dictated to by some... Initiate pawn"

 

"So be it," Scarecrow said, raising his right hand.

 

A small puff of gas sprayed into Roland's face, causing him to stagger backwards and clutch his throat. He stumbled into a wall, seemingly trying to grab at something.

 

"They won't get here in time, Roland" Scarecrow said gesturing to a button which Daggett had just pressed.

 

"You... Freak... You'll die for this..." Roland gasped, beginning to look around frantically as if something was flying around him "Argh, get away! Get back!"

 

I'd seen enough. I jumped down and kicked Scarecrow hard in the back of the head, knocking him to the ground before launching a Batarang at the elevator button to stop him from escaping.

 

Roland's arms were flailing and he was screaming loudly, there was no way Melissa could sleep through what was happening. I pulled up the hood in case she came out of the lounge.

 

"Roland!" I shouted, he'd run out on to the large balcony. I reached down to cuff Scarecrow, who kicked me hard in the stomach and rolled back to his feet. Before he could activate his wrist device, I hurled a Batarang at him, piercing deep into the palm of his hand. He let out a scream before pulling it out and attempting to throw it back at me.

 

"Shit" I looked out to Roland, he was near the edge of the balcony, trying to climb over the railings. I looked back between the Scarecrow and Daggett. It pained me to do it, but I couldn't let him die.

 

I ran out on to the balcony, and the Scarecrow disappeared almost instantly.

 

"Roland!" I called out, holding my hands up "It's OK, I'm here to help."

 

"Stay back!" Roland squealed, "Stay away from me, I won't let you take me."

 

Blue lights had begun to fill the streets below as Roland climbed over the railing and held on from the other side. The button he'd pressed must have been a silent alarm.

 

"See, the cops are here to help you, you're safe!" I tried to explain.

 

A crowd was gathering in the street below. Roland was flinching again as if something was trying to grab at him.

 

"Roland, please! Think about Melissa!" I pleaded "Don't be afraid, don't let it take over."

 

"Get these things away!"

 

"Roland it's the gas, it's not real, none of it."

 

"Argh, get away! Get away from me!" He swatted with his hand "Get away!" He swatted again, letting go with both.

 

Time slowed down. I lunged forward like I never had before, hands outstretched as Roland toppled backwards.

 

Luck was on my side as I managed to grab Roland by the front of his suit jacket. He was leaning out, trying to fight me off as I desperately clung to him, planting my feet as hard as I could into the foot of the railing. I was strong, strong enough to hold his weight, but the more he writhed, the more my grip loosened.

 

A voice on a megaphone in the street below blurted out "This is Officer Hunt of the GCPD, please don't do this, please pull Mr Daggett back into safety."

 

That was all I needed, a crowd of people beneath me thinking I was trying to kill him. I felt like shouting back that I was trying, but they wouldn't hear me.

 

It all happened in a flash.

 

A loud screech from behind me turned my head, distracting me, Roland brought his fists down hard on to my arms with tremendous force. There was a rip, my fingers slipped. I let go.

 

"No!" I screamed, barely witnessing the aftermath, the man fell to the ground like a meteor. A horrific crunch echoed through the air as he collided with the windshield of one of the police cars. There was no doubt in my mind, Roland Daggett was dead.

 

I paused for a few seconds, in shock, before turning to see what had distracted me. And there she stood, staring right at me - Melissa Daggett, my girlfriend, the woman I loved, she'd just lost her father... And she was pointing a gun at me.

 


	16. My Mistakes Were Made For You

Staring down the barrel of a gun had become all-too-familiar to me over the years. Quite frankly, being a hazard of the profession, it wasn't something that particularly bothered me. The thing is, if you can see them pointing the gun at you, it usually means they've already waited too long to pull the trigger.

 

I could usually predict what was going to happen, whether they were going to fire, whether they had it in them to shoot, to potentially kill me. Looking at Melissa's tear-stained face through the glass, I couldn't see anything, no next move, no strategy of any kind, nothing but blind hatred. I knew I had to get out of there, but I was rooted to the spot. Something in those eyes had frozen me solid. I wanted to reach out and explain. I imagined pulling down the hood and taking my mask off, but that would only make things worse. She needed Dick Grayson, not Nightwing, not the man who, as far as she knew, had just killed her father.

 

Regaining some kind of feeling, I raised my hands slowly to surrender, analysing her to see if there was a way to disarm her. My mouth twitched to speak.

 

And that was when she pulled the trigger. A pop followed by the shattering of glass sent a bullet hurtling into my armoured chest plate. It hadn't penetrated the kevlar, but I was completely winded, seizing the railing as I stumbled backwards.

 

The second shot rang in my ears as she marched toward me, her intentions clear, and pinged another round off my chest plate before a third hit my shoulder. They weren't going through, but she wasn't stopping. Taking a massive gasp of air, I rolled to my left and narrowly missed a fourth shot which would have likely broken through the armour.

 

I'd run the whole length of the large balcony before Melissa had emptied the 12-round magazine, not managing to hit me again. Taking one last look back at her face, I leapt over the edge and swung into the alleyway below.

"Freeze!" An officer shouted as I pulled my hidden gym bag from the dumpster. To my surprise, he opened fire without letting me respond, forcing me to disarm him with a kick before zipping up on to the next building.

 

I sprinted as best I could along the rooftop, blue lights and sirens were everywhere, and my options were looking pretty limited. There was no time for thinking about next moves as I was headed off by whirring helicopter blades. A GCPD chopper, complete with an onboard sniper was staring me down. The PA system blurted: "Drop the bag and put your hands in the air, you are under arrest."

 

This couldn't be happening...

 

I raised my hands, sliding one past my utility belt as slyly as I could, still holding the bag.

 

"Drop the bag!" The voice called impatiently.

 

It was a risky move, but I managed to fling a smoke pellet down to the ground and leap to one side before the sniper was able to let off a shot.

 

"Nightwing," came a voice in my ear, "It's Batgirl, what the hell is going on?"

 

"Long story!" I replied, my voice coming out raspier than I'd expected.

 

"You're all over the news; they're saying you threw Roland Daggett off of his penthouse. There's a video and everything!"

 

"Throwing him? I was trying to save him!" I snapped.

 

"I assumed as much; it's me remember. But the footage looks bad, Dick. You need to get away from those cops ASAP and get to the mansion," Barbara explained.

 

"Easier said than done if you have any suggestions I'd love to hear 'em. Half the GCPD is on my tail!" I jumped a moderate gap, landing on a slightly lower building.

 

"Your best bet..." Barbara began, pausing for a second.

 

"Is?" I snapped.

 

"The sewer," She said.

 

"You've gotta be kidding me?"

 

"You're not going to outrun those cars on the ground at this rate, and there's a GCPD chopper and a news chopper keeping up with you pretty well."

 

"I've been shot" I panted, holding my chest.

 

"Again? What's gotten into you lately, you've been shot more times this year than –"

 

"I know, Barbara! This time it was... complicated."

 

"Are you bleeding?" Asked Barb, a concerned inflexion in her voice.

 

"No, I don't think it penetrated the armour, but I can't breathe properly," I explained, "I'm not gonna make it much further like this."

 

"Once you're in the sewer you need to take off the plate, it must be putting pressure on your chest," Barbara told me, "Your best entry point is two streets away, east of your current position, you should be able to get down the grate before the cars surround you."

 

"Got it," I said, sharply turning on my heel and throwing myself into a hard sprint. The GCPD chopper flung itself around and continued to tail me closely. I felt the tremor of a bullet hitting the ground just behind my foot.

 

"You're nearly there, but you're going to have to speed up!" She exclaimed as if I didn't know already.

 

"I'm trying" I gasped, wedging a finger under the chest plate to alleviate some of the pressure.

 

"Try harder!"

 

There was one more building to jump, and then I was just over the street where the grate was. Jumping the gap all sounded so easy in my head, however, in practice, it was a different story. The lack of oxygen had gotten to me; I was dizzying as I approached the building's edge. Another shot rang through the air; the cops weren't messing around, they'd aimed for the head.

 

Throwing all my might into a jump, I reached out with my free hand. It felt as though I was hanging in the air for ages, I could see myself landing on the other roof in my mind's eye. No amount of wishing was going to make it happen though; I'd not had enough energy.

 

Somehow, I managed to reach out and grab the ledge of the building I was aiming for, but I didn't have the strength to pull myself up.

 

"Dick, you've stopped moving, what's happening?" Barbara asked frantically, "Dick, are you there, talk to me!"

 

"I...," I struggled to speak, struggled to hold on.

 

"Dick!"

 

It wasn't possible, but I could swear I heard the GCPD sniper cock his rifle as the chopper stopped in the air and turned side on to get a good shot. My only option was to let go. The problem with that plan was that assuming I survived at all, it was unlikely that I would get away from the cops with a broken leg or broken legs.

 

Melissa would know who I was; once I was arrested, the world would know. It wouldn't be hard for them to figure out from there that Bruce was Batman, it had taken Stephanie all of five minutes to join the dots. Stephanie, now there's someone who wouldn't be happy to see me arrested, she'd definitely not be getting any more training sessions while I was behind bars. Every minor infraction they'd let slide thanks to Gordon would be levelled against me on top of the murder charge. I'd probably not walk free until I was 187, and that was being optimistic.

 

My fingers were weakening. I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth, I was either going to drop or be shot in the next few seconds.

 

"What the hell was that!" A voice blurted from the chopper. I opened my eyes and turned my head sharply to see the helicopter twirl in the air; the front window had been blasted with multi-coloured paint.

 

Something clutched my wrist, and I looked up. If it weren't for the profanity, I might have thought it was my tiny purple guardian angel, "Grab my hand, asshole!" Spoiler shouted.

 

I threw my bag over her head and grabbed her outstretched arm. She pulled me up with more strength than I knew she had and we tumbled over together, landing flat on the roof.

 

Spoiler slung my bag over her shoulder and picked up what looked to be a paintball gun before offering me a hand. I declined and pulled myself up; her appearance had given me a second wind.

 

"What now, boss?" Spoiler asked, looking back at the chopper which was spinning back into position.

 

"That way," I panted, gesturing to the street I was heading for.

 

"No way, it's swarming with cops!"

 

"Come on!" I yelled, speeding to the edge with as much haste as I could muster.

 

Spoiler was right; the street was packed with police cars and officers with guns drawn, aimed right at us. Finally, though, I'd been handed some luck. The sewage grate was behind the cops on the sidewalk, clear as day. I checked my utility belt and grabbed an assortment of pellets.

 

"Grab my waist and give me your grapple gun," I told Spoiler.

 

Without question or argument, she did as she was told, something I had not expected, but I was thankful.

 

My next few moves had to be timed to absolute perfection, or the two of us were dead.

 

Pellet one hit the ground at our feet and shrouded us with smoke as I activated my VISR and aimed Spoiler's grapple gun at the grate. The clink of metal on metal signalled that I'd hit my target and I pulled the grill out the ground. As I expected, the cops started shooting.

 

I ducked down and dropped Spoiler's grapple gun, producing my own and throwing the rest of the pellets, bar one, down at the cops. A number of things happened in quick succession. Small explosions and clouds of smoke disoriented the waiting police officers who dived for cover and fell about foolishly as I aimed my grapple at the opposing roof.

 

It barely had time to connect as I threw myself forward, Spoiler under my arm, and swung down into the street and disconnected the grapple at the very last second. The two of us make an almighty splash as we dropped smoothly into the sewer beneath the road. I twisted the final pellet, hoping to god that it would work before throwing it back up the hole above my head.

 

A horrific high-pitched screech rang out in the street, and I could see from the heat signatures in my VISR that the cops were holding their ears and moving away from the hole.

 

"Let's go, let's go!" Spoiler shouted.

 

"Right," I gasped. The impatient sidekick grabbed my hand, and we began to run ahead through the shallow water.

 

“Dick,” Said Batgirl’s voice in my ear, she’d been frantically shouting for the last couple of minutes but I’d managed to drown her out with everything going on, “I was watching on the news, did you get into the sewer? Are you safe?”

 

“I’m safe, Batgirl,” I said formally, not wanting to give away any names in front of Spoiler.

 

“Thank god,” She sighed, “For a minute there I thought…”

 

“For a minute there, so did I…”

 

“Looks like you picked a good one, your sidekick I mean, I owe that girl a drink,” Barbara said, the tension in her voice had dissipated, “Have you got a plan? Where to go next?”

 

“Yeah, I think so,” I said, “I’ll message you when I’m home and dry. We can regroup tomorrow at some point but I have to get back to Melissa as fast as I can.”

 

“Right, of course,” Barb said, I sensed discomfort in her voice, Melissa wasn’t an easy thing to talk about with her, “I’ll fill Batman in on everything he doesn’t know already. Just, let me know when you’re back home.”

 

“I will, Nightwing out.”

 

***

 

Thirty minutes felt like a lifetime, jogging through the sewers and ducking in and out of the darkness as groups of police dropped down to look for us. Thankfully down there, my VISR gave us a huge advantage, and we were soon far enough out of their range to stop for a breather.

 

The one positive of being so distracted meant that the smell down there was forced to the back of our minds.

 

"What the hell were you thinking?" I said finally, snarling at Spoiler who looked up at me, her contemptuous expression visible even through the black cloth of her mask.

 

"Screw you! I saw you on the news and thought you needed help. Must have been wrong though since you looked to be doing just fine clinging off the edge of that building. Damn, I could have just stayed in fricking bed," She snapped back.

 

"You could have called Roy; you shouldn't have come alone, you could have died," I said, sounding an awful lot like Bruce.

 

"Are you listening to yourself? It's you that nearly died; I saved your damned life... Again!" She growled, "You ungrateful asshole."

 

"Alright, alright," I sighed, "Can you help me get this off?" I gestured at the chest plate.

 

"Oh sure, now I'm good enough to help you," She retorted but moved over to help me nonetheless. Wiggling her fingers under the chest plate, she asked, "How'd this happen anyway, why'd you kill that guy?"

 

"I didn't... Kill him," I winced as I felt the plate move away from me, "That was my girlfriend's father."

 

"Jesus, I bet you don't get introduced to many parents."

 

"It's not funny, he was working with that Court Of Owls you found online, but they must have had enough of him because they had him killed."

 

"Well, it looked a lot like you threw him off a building," Spoiler said, wrenching off the chest plate completely and allowing me to breathe somewhat normally again.

 

"Thanks," I said before continuing, "Someone sprayed him with a toxin that induces extreme fear, he thought I was a monster or something and climbed out there to get away from me. And... Well, you know the rest."

 

"This is some heavy shit," Spoiler sighed, hands on hips.

 

"You're telling me."

 

"I tried, by the way, to get hold of Roy. I'm not an idiot you know."

 

"I know," I said with a smile, "I'm sorry I just."

 

"Yeah you don't want me to get hurt, because you're a sentimental weirdo," She laughed, "Can we get out of this stinking place now?"

 

I gestured down a tunnel, "We've got to go about another mile in that direction, then we should be clear to get out not far from where we usually meet to train."

 

"That's near my house; we can go there and change."

 

"Good idea, we need to get these outfits hidden."

 

"And we need showers, badly."

 

***

 

The sewer grate brought us out just around the corner from Stephanie's house. It had started to rain heavily while we were underground, which was a blessing given that we were covered in who knows what from trudging around in Gotham's waste system. There were no sirens in earshot, nor could we see any sign of blue flashing lights, so we could safely assume they weren't looking for us in that area. As quickly as we were able, the two of us scrambled straight into the nearest alley upon emerging from the sewer, closing the grate behind us.

 

We pressed up against the alley wall, "Here," Spoiler said, handing me my gym bag, "I think you can carry this now."

 

"Thanks," I replied, resting the bag on my shoulder.

 

"There's a back way," Spoiler whispered, pointing down the alley, "If we turn right down there we'll be at my house in like two minutes."

 

"Lead the way," I nodded.

 

Taking the lead, Spoiler jogged ahead, splashing through the puddles, and looked left and right before signalling that I could follow. We moved swiftly down the alley and around the corner, weaving around trashcans and dumpsters, ducking under any window ledges where we saw light - a surprising number of people were still awake in the early hours of the morning.

 

"A lot of people work nights in this neighbourhood; my mom included," Spoiler explained quietly as if anticipating my question.

 

We stopped at the foot of a fire escape, "This is the best way into my room, don't worry no one's home," Spoiler said before beginning to climb the rusty ladder.

 

I followed without a word as we ascended to the next floor. Like most of the fire escapes, I was used to climbing; this one felt like it was one heavy step away from being wholly wrenched away from the wall. The difference was that this ancient thing also looked like it was about to, it hadn't been maintained in years.

 

"Here," Spoiler said, stopping in front of a large window. She'd obviously done this before as she popped her bedroom window open like a pro and forced it upward with an aggressive heave. "Quick, get in, this thing is heavy."

 

I ducked under her arm and dropped on to the wooden bedroom floor. Steph pulled off her mask and closed the window behind her, she flicked on a lamp and then dropped dramatically on to the single bed by the wall.

Steph's room was small and homely; it looked like the wallpaper had been put up when she was a kid and never replaced, as there was a faded pattern of Zoo animals printed along the top edge running the length of the room. She seemingly had tried to cover up some of the childishness with various band posters and edgy slogans - strangely making an effort to preserve the childish wallpaper beneath.

 

"I'd give you the tour, but..." Steph said, gesturing to the corners of the room.

 

I smiled, trying not to look too sympathetic, the last thing she'd want was the rich boy feeling sorry for her.

 

"Do you wanna get in the shower first?" I asked.

 

"Nah, you go ahead, it's on your left," She said, pointing at the bedroom door which was also littered with posters and stickers, "The towels on the shelf above the sink are spares, just use whichever you want".

 

I nodded and walked out of the room. Steph wasn't kidding when she said it was on the left; their hallway was the size of the cardboard box my refrigerator arrived in, I barely had to take a step to enter the bathroom - which was itself pretty tiny. As horrible as I felt for thinking it, Steph's house made me pretty thankful for my crappy apartment.

 

It seemed like a good idea to throw my costume into the bathtub first and hose it down, but the heat from the water accentuated the smell of sewage, and I regretted the choice immediately.

 

Once the smell had died down a little, I hung the costume over the shower curtain rail and stepped into the tub. Whoever had been in the shower last mustn't have had any nerve endings because the water was piping hot to the point that it made me flinch and jump out from underneath it and make an embarrassingly high pitched yelping sound.

 

I only turned the shower temperature down by one notch but the resulting change was ridiculous, the damn thing was barely producing any heat at all now, but it would have to do. The sharp chill of the water brought forth flashes of the moment it happened, the moment I let go. There was a part of me that wondered if I’d wanted to, if it was someone I’d liked out on that ledge would I have given up so easily? I pictured Jim Gordon falling and Alfred... My father... My mother...

 

The visions flashed away as I was abruptly snapped back to reality, “Are you gonna be long?” Steph was stood in the bathroom as if it was perfectly reasonable to walk in on guests in the shower.

 

I reached for the shower curtain and yanked it around my modesty, “Jesus Christ!”

 

“Oh yeah,” Steph began, grinning, “Lock doesn’t work.”

 

“Really? I hadn’t noticed,” I snarled sarcastically.

 

“If I’d known you were gonna waste time washing your costume I’d have gotten in first. Could you hurry it up?”

 

“Alright could you, y’know,” I said, gesturing toward the open door.

 

Misunderstanding me, she closed the door while she was still in the bathroom.

 

“I meant, could you go...” I clarified politely.

 

“Oh pull the curtain across I’m dying to pee,” Steph said, pulling the curtain out of my hand and sliding it so that I could no longer see her.

 

“Can’t you use another bathroom?” I pleaded.

 

“Sorry mansion boy, we don’t have one, just close your ears!”

 

***

 

Clean and dry, I slipped on my civilian clothes. Sitting down to tie my shoelaces at the end of Steph’s bed while she finished her shower. I took a mental note to teach her about boundaries the next time we got to training.

 

The girl in question strolled through the door in just a towel, drying her hair with a smaller sheet, “That’s better,” She sighed, “Let’s not do that again.”

 

“Yeah, let’s not,” I replied, pulling my laces tight.

 

“You heading out already?” Asked Steph with a raised eyebrow.

 

“I need to get back to Melissa; she’s gonna need me. I just need to think up a good reason why I wasn’t there when she woke up.”

 

“I’m sure you’ll think of something, can’t do a job like this one and not be a good liar, right?” She was correct of course, but it didn’t stop me from getting a bit of a knot in my stomach, “Hell, she might not even ask with all she’s been through. She may just be happy to see you.”

 

“Let’s hope so,” I sighed. Looking down at my phone. I made sure to send a text to Barb and let her know I was safe.

 

Steph and I said our goodbyes and I thanked her again for saving my life - not with too much enthusiasm; I wouldn’t want her getting big headed about it and picking up a reckless habit. Promising to return in the next day or so and pick up my suit which was now hidden in the bottom of Steph’s wardrobe, I took off and got in a cab.

 

Traffic was minimal at that time in a morning, so we got back to Daggett’s building pretty quickly. Cars and blue flashing lights still surrounded the place, a couple of the neighbours looked to be giving witness statements. I paid the driver and made my way over to the police cordon.

 

“Sorry buddy, you can’t come any closer, crime scene,” A cop said in a strangely familiar raspy voice, gesturing around him as if I was some kind of idiot, “If you live here you need to speak to the captain over there.”

 

“Uh, my girlfriend lives here, her father was the one who... Who fell,” I explained, realising that it was Jim Corrigan whom I had encountered at Stan’s brothel.

 

“Right, sorry to hear that,” The cop replied in a tone that suggested he wasn’t particularly sorry at all. He turned away from me and begun speaking to another officer.

 

“Do you know if she’s still here?” I asked, craning my neck into his view, a hair’s breadth from losing my patience.

 

“I don’t know pal, if she is she’ll be in the van over there, now are you gonna let me do my job or what?”

 

“Sure, thanks,” I said with a smile meant to disguise my contempt for the obnoxious little weasel.

 

My hatred for the little man dissipated as, sure enough, Melissa was sat in the back of a police van with a blanket over her shoulders and a cup of hot coffee in her hands. Her eyes were puffy and her face, which looked somehow older then it was when I last saw her, was stained with streaks of tears.

 

I ducked under the cordon that separated us and immediately felt a hand on my chest. A uniformed officer had stopped me in my tracks, “Just what do you think you’re doing? This is a crime scene.”

 

“That’s my girlfriend, over there in the van,” I explained, pointing to Melissa.

 

“I’m going to have to ask you to step back behind the line, sir.”

 

“Please, you don’t understand,” I pleaded, “The man who fell from the building was her father, I have to see her, she needs me.”

 

“Sir, if you don’t step back behind the line I’ll have to place you under arrest,” He said, pushing me back.

 

A weak voice called out from behind the officer, “Wait... Please.”

 

Melissa emerged from behind him, seeing the pain in her eyes caused my own to glaze over. The officer stepped aside without a word as she approached me, a terrible lump growing in my throat. I couldn’t read her expression; I’d stopped breathing, I didn’t know whether she was happy to see me or angry with me.

 

The anxiety passed in a second as she threw her arms around me and I exhaled in relief, holding her tightly in my arms. We stood glued together for a moment that could easily have been an eternity as she cried heavily into my chest.

 

“He’s... He’s gone, Grayson,” She whispered finally, looking up into my eyes, “I can’t... even remember the last thing we said to each other.”

 

I didn’t know what to say, any words of comfort were trapped with the lump in my throat. I actively hated her father, I didn’t wish him dead, but beyond that, I couldn’t muster a single positive thing to say about the man. My only course of action was to kiss her tenderly on the forehead.

 

“I know he wasn’t perfect,” She sniffled, “But why would someone want to kill him?”

 

“I don’t know,” I lied softly, kissing her again and holding her tighter.

 

“My mother,” She began, it seemed as though talking was helping her, “She’s vacationing in Europe, I called her, and she’s going to get the next flight back, but it could take her a few days and I... I don’t know what to do... I was about to call you, and then you showed up and...”

 

I sensed the subtext in what she was saying, that she wanted me to offer to let her stay at my place, but was too polite to ask. Were I a normal boyfriend I’d have offered in a heartbeat, but I wasn’t. Things had escalated, and Melissa was directly involved, having her living under my roof while I investigated the death of her father would be too complicated. It’s not as if I could even tell her - after tonight maybe she could never know. For all intents and purposes, in her eyes at least, it would be as good as telling her that I was the one who killed her father. What’s worse is that indirectly, I did.

 

Something on my face must have given away a hint at my inner conflict as Melissa studied me, confused. I hadn’t spoken for long enough that it seemed quite deliberate. Her mouth opened as if to say something, but instead of words there came a wince of anguish, and she buried her head in my chest again.

 

What the hell was I going to do, I love this girl, I told her as much only a few hours ago and now what? Am I just not going to let her stay at my place for a few days? What kind of message is that - I love you but not enough to take care of you after your father just died.

 

I’d have to kiss patrolling goodbye for as long as she was there, there was no way I’d get away with sneaking out in the middle of the night. And what if people died in that time? It’d be all my fault. I couldn’t put myself above the safety of others even if it were all I wanted to do, could I?

 

The moments were rare and fleeting, but they sometimes happened, those moments when I wished I’d never put on a mask in the first place. The moments when Dick Grayson really wanted to punch Nightwing right in his stupid face. Moments like right now.

 

“Do you have any relatives in the city?” I asked finally, breaking the silence and feeling sick at myself for doing so with such a hollow and pathetic question.

 

“Not that are around, my mom’s sister went with her to Europe, it was a birthday present,” Melissa explained, her voice hoarse from crying, “I was invited, but I didn’t want to miss too many classes. I... maybe if I’d gone this wouldn’t have...”

 

“You can’t think like that, none of this is your fault, it couldn’t be,” I assured her.

 

She looked up at me again, those eyes of hers, Crystal blue as ever, but stricken with anguish, pain and fear. I couldn’t do it; I couldn’t leave her, it wasn’t happening. Maybe keeping away was the right thing to do, and my head certainly thought it was. But that other thing, the thing beating in my chest that rarely got to take charge had taken a back seat for long enough.

 

“Officer,” I called out to the cop stood at the back of the van with a notepad in his hand, “Do you need anything more from Miss Daggett tonight?”

 

“No, no, she can come down to the station in the morning, we were just trying to arrange a place for her to stay,” He replied.

 

“Well don’t worry about that, she’s got a place to stay.”

 

Melissa’s wounded expression cracked into a weak smile, "Thank you," She whispered.

 

"Come on, let's get you out of here," I said, and I took the blanket off her shoulders and threw it back to the cop, replacing it with my jacket.

 

"What's that?" She asked, pointing at my neckline.

 

"What's what?" I smiled back, not realising to what she was referring.

 

"On your neck, are you... Alright? It looks like a bruise."

 

She was right, it was a bruise, from where she'd shot me.

 

"Oh, that," I said, "You're going to think I'm such an idiot..."

 

Melissa didn't say anything, her face expressionless, her eyes planted on the bruise. I felt a wash of panic, she wasn't an idiot, if she connected the dots this was all over.

 

"I fell, on my way to the cab, halfway down a flight of stairs..."

 

She let it hang in the air for a moment before asking: "Why _were_ you in a cab? What happened to your bike?"

 

"I..." I stuttered, she noticed, "I know how much you hate it, and I didn't want it to be in the way if I needed to go anywhere with you or bring you home with me."

 

She looked at me dead in the eyes for a moment, and then burst into tears again, "I'm sorry, I'm such a mess."

 

A pang of guilt hit me as I brought her in close again, "No, I'm sorry, you have nothing to apologise for. Let's get you back to my place; I'll see if one of the officers can go up and grab some things for you."

 

Together, my arm around her shoulders, we approached the officer and asked him if he could retrieve some items for Melissa from the building. Telling us he’d do his best he walked back into the building.

 

I called a cab and we sat down on the back of the police van, staring out into the darkness and the rain. Melissa didn’t want to talk anymore, it was enough for her just to know I was there, holding her hand as she traversed the minefield of her thoughts and tried her best to keep herself together.


	17. The Apartment Song

Melissa didn’t sleep that night, and who could blame her. I could have done with a few hours to regain some semblance of energy, but it didn’t feel right with the state she was in. We ended up talking all night about the most innocuous and inconsequential things we could think of, anything but the things she'd seen. I didn’t care what we said as long as it made her feel better.

 

I threw together some omelettes the next morning at about 5:30am once we’d surrendered to the fact that we weren’t getting any sleep. Roy wasn’t around for some reason which I thought of as a blessing at first, but maybe it would have been good for Melissa to be distracted by his annoying habits. Also, I’d quite like to ask him why he hadn’t been around to help Spoiler save me.

 

The omelette slid pretty effortlessly onto Melissa’s plate, an achievement considering last time I made them they got stuck to the pan and ended up looking more like burnt scrambled egg with bits of cheese in them. She smiled thankfully, and I gave her a tender kiss on the forehead before returning to the kitchen to make my own.

 

Unbeknownst to Melissa, I was having a bit of difficulty holding up the pan with my left arm, thanks to her shooting me in the chest. It was such a small thing, but it felt very odd to have to rely mostly on one arm for the omelette-making process.

 

“Do you need some help?” Melissa asked, seeing that I had the whisk in my mouth while I cracked eggs into a bowl with one hand.

 

I said something that sounded like ‘No, thank you,’ through my clenched mouth and managed eventually to crack the eggs. Usually, I was a two egg kind of guy but decided on four in the hope that the extra protein would keep me going after the all-nighter.

 

“This is pretty great, Grayson, where’d you learn to cook?” Melissa asked with a little smile, some of the natural glow had returned to her face - a promising sign.

 

“My butler, of course,” I replied with a cheeky raise of the eyebrow.

 

She smiled at me and continued to eat as I turned back to pour the beaten eggs into the frying pan.

 

I finally took a seat a few minutes later with another perfect omelette on my plate. As I raised the fork to my mouth, Melissa let out a loud sob. I immediately put down the fork and rushed around the table to her side.

 

“I’m sorry,” She sniffled, “I just... Should have been having breakfast with my dad today that’s all.”

 

“It’s alright,” I reassured her, kissing her forehead and holding her.

 

Melissa stood and composed herself as best she could before saying: “I’m going to get myself cleaned up and get dressed, we need to be at the station in a few hours.”

 

“Don’t rush yourself. If you’re not feeling up to it, we can always go later.”

 

“No, thanks, but I think I need to do this as soon as possible.”

 

I nodded in agreement, and she stepped into the bedroom, closing the door behind her. Exhausted, I sat back down, picked up the fork and brought the sumptuous piece of omelette back up to my open mouth.

 

Then, the front door rattled as someone tried to open it. I sighed and dropped the fork on to the plate again. Once I got up and took off the latch, Roy bounded into the room... Fully costumed with a cloth sack over his shoulder.

 

“Morning!” He thundered with a beaming grin.

 

Eyes-wide, I grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and dragged him over to the bookcase, “What the hell is wrong with you?” I whispered angrily, swinging the secret door partially open and shoving him inside, “Get changed and come back later... And leave through the roof, you moron.”

 

“Hey, hang on, I...” I closed the bookcase in his face, not allowing him to finish his sentence.

 

What was he thinking? Walking in the front door fully costumed. Had it been a couple of minutes earlier he’d have been rumbled by Melissa.

 

“What was that?” Melissa called from the bedroom.

 

“Nothing!” I called back. Then, I made an effort to check the corridor outside the apartment to make sure Roy hadn’t brought anyone with him or stupidly left his bow outside or something. Thankfully he hadn’t; I could only hope he hadn’t run into any of the neighbours on his way up the stairs.

 

“Could you bring me my bag, I think I left it on the couch?” Melissa asked.

 

“Sure,” I picked up the bag which was where she’d said and walked into the bedroom. Placing it on the bed next to her, I smiled and moved back toward the exit, not wanting to crowd her any more than I already had. It was then that I heard a clinking sound through the door.

 

Trying to remain as unsuspecting as I could to Melissa, I peered around the door casually and was wholly unsurprised to see Roy sat at the table, shovelling the last remnants of my omelette into his mouth.

 

I had a most satisfying daydream as I closed the bedroom door of myself smashing the plate over Roy’s head and throwing him out of the apartment window.

 

“You make one hell of an omelette, my friend,” Roy said, grinning blissfully.

 

“One, I’m not your friend. Two, it was my omelette. And three, I know,” I snarled quietly.

 

“Oh, my bad, I thought it was for me.”

 

“Yes, because I always cook an omelette and just leave it on the table for when you might happen to stroll through the door at god-knows-what-time in the morning,” I said snidely, “I take it you haven’t seen the news today?”

 

“No, I was a little busy with my own thing, you should see what I...”

 

“Well if you had seen the news,” I interrupted, caring very little for what he was going to say, “You’d have seen that Melissa’s father died tonight.”

 

“What? No way! Shit, man, is she in there?” Roy said, genuinely taken aback, “And I just walked in here like that... Woah, I am so sorry.”

 

“Yeah, she stayed over,” I explained, then switching to a quieter tone I said, “It was them.”

 

“The Owls?” Roy whispered.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“So he wasn’t one of them after all?”

 

“Oh, he was working with them, I think he just pissed them off,” I explained, sitting down across from Roy and still keeping my voice as low as possible, “That Scarecrow guy splashed him with fear toxin, and he climbed over the balcony and...”

 

“Splat,” Roy said, sensitive as ever.

 

I raised an eyebrow, unimpressed, and continued, “I tried to stop him from falling, but he shook me off... Melissa saw it happen...”

 

"I'm sure she knows you did everything you could," Roy said.

 

"She might have if she'd actually seen the Scarecrow part, and I hadn't been in full costume," I explained.

 

"Wait, so she thinks that you did it? Not you, but... You..."

 

"Yep, and she shot me for my trouble."

 

“Wow... So your girlfriend thinks you killed her father, only she doesn’t know it’s you. Tough break,” Roy said.

 

“Yeah, thanks for spelling it out, I needed that.”

 

***

 

I unintentionally caught up on some sleep later that day at the police station. An officer had taken Melissa into an interview in which I wasn’t allowed to be present. Sat in the corridor, I drifted off into a dreamless doze.

 

As the muscles in my neck loosened, my head dropped to one side and startled me awake. This happened three or four times before I finally got comfortably away in the blue plastic chair.

 

I must have gotten a solid hour of sleep, and although I’d paid for it with a stiff neck - I felt like I might manage to stay alert for another few hours. At first, I didn’t open my eyes but was listening to the chatter up and down the corridor.

 

“Tough break,” A man’s voice said.

 

“Who, Daggett?” A woman replied.

 

“You’re kidding, right? The man was wretched, deserved everything he got,” I might have been angry if they were talking about anyone else, but I could see how having met the guy, one might not sympathise with his passing, "I was talkin' about his daughter, the poor kid saw the whole thing."

 

"Oh of course, yeah that's awful."

 

“What are you making of this Red Hood killer?” The man asked after a short pause.

 

“I don’t know, he’s kitted out like one of Batman’s cronies, but the Bat doesn’t make a habit of throwing men from balconies as far as I’m aware,” The woman replied.

 

“I meant what they’re saying upstairs,” He elaborated.

 

“What’s that?”

 

“About Yin?”

 

“Oh right, that. Thought that was an open and shut case, the woman was a junkie plain and simple.”

 

“Not so simple, apparently. We got an anonymous tip that someone matching the description of the Red Hood, and two others were seen near her place the night she died.”

 

“Bit of a stretch, what’d she have to do with Daggett?”

 

“That’s what we’re trying to find out.”

 

“Hey,” Another voice said, closer to me, Melissa put a hand on my shoulder, and I opened my eyes. She’d been crying again in the interview room, but it looked to have passed.

 

“How was it?” I asked sympathetically.

 

“Pretty much what I expected, they wanted to know if anything weird had happened during the day or leading up to what happened. I told them everything I could remember. I think they might wanna call you in over the next few days to see where you were when everything went down. I told them it wasn’t necessary, but Silver has told them that you...” She gulped in an effort to hold back tears, “Didn’t get on very well.”

 

An understatement to say the least, but I smiled and held her hand. I wanted to tell her everything was going to be OK, but I couldn’t be sure that it was, and she’d heard enough lies from me.

 

“The police want me to go to my mom’s,” She explained, “They’ve spoken to her, and they’re going to have a security detail posted there. Mom is worried that this guy is gonna come after me.”

 

“Have they said any more about him?”

 

“Not much, they’re calling him the Red Hood, and they took one of those artists impressions but to be honest it’s all so much of a blur that I can barely see him in my head anymore. It’s all just my dad.”

 

“I’ll stay with you, at your mom’s until she gets here,” I told her.

 

“No,” She said, somewhat more sharply than I think she intended, “The Police said they can only take responsibility for my mother and me.”

 

Something was off about the way Melissa was talking, the police had said something to her in there, and I had to make sure I wasn’t arousing any suspicion. I had a feeling in my gut, that Dick Grayson had become a suspect.

 

***

 

The police escorted us back to the apartment so that Melissa could collect her things and go with them. An officer followed us uncomfortably up the stairs, and Melissa was growing more and more jittery as we went.

 

It didn’t make any sense if I was a suspect then why wasn’t I being arrested. But if I wasn’t then why was Melissa acting so strangely.

 

I opened the apartment door and was treated to a heart-stopping sight. Steph was sat at the kitchen table with Roy, a large trash bag strewn across it - and I knew exactly what was inside. The officer nodded to me as I closed the door, leaving him in the hallway.

 

“Hi guys,” I said, pulling an accusatory face aimed at the bag which contained the ‘Red Hood’ costume.

 

“Hey, how was the cop shop?” Steph asked, her eyes widening as Melissa and a police officer stepped in behind me.

 

“Not great,” I replied, starting to sweat a little.

 

“Roy, uhm, my boyfriend Roy, he uh told me what happened Mel, I’m so sorry about your dad,” Steph said fumbling.

 

“Thanks,” Melissa said with another weak smile. She strode over to the bedroom and closed the door behind her before I could follow.

 

“Are you insane?” I said under my breath, gesturing toward the bag, “I said I’d come and get it for a reason.”

 

“Sorry I was just trying to be helpful, I didn’t think -“

 

“Bingo, you didn’t think, sounds about right,” I snarled, I’d just about had enough for one day.

 

“Hey,” Roy interjected, “Don’t get pissy with her, she was doing you a favour.”

 

“Don’t you get involved, you’ve pissed me off enough, mooching off me for weeks. She’s not going to sleep with you Roy; there’s no need to pretend you give a shit,” I spat.

 

“Woah, can we cool the testosterone?” Steph said, “Roy was just being nice, he doesn’t want to sleep with me.”

 

Roy shrugged his shoulders, halfway between a yes and a no, to which Steph rolled her eyes.

 

“When Melissa is finished in there, you can pack your crap and go back to Star City, you’ve outstayed your welcome,” I said, and that was the final word. I made for the bedroom door and didn’t look at either of them when I slammed it behind me.

 

Melissa had come over all sheepish when I walked in, halfway through frantically packing her bag. Something was definitely wrong, but I couldn’t draw attention to it, or I might end up in handcuffs, at a time like this that was the last place I needed to be.

 

“Nearly done,” Melissa smiled unconvincingly, "Everything OK out there?"

 

“Yeah, just Roy being Roy. Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?” I asked pleadingly.

 

“It’s not me, I want you to come but the police just... don’t think it’s a good idea.”

 

“Alright, well, call me when you get there, so I know you’re safe.”

 

“I will, I promise.”

 

Bag packed, Melissa said her goodbyes to my unwanted guests and I, before leaving with the officer. I wore a fake smile right up to the point the door closed, and then rounded on Roy and Steph.

 

“You don’t look packed,” I said, walking to the fridge and opening it, angering myself further at the sight of the bare shelves. Roy got up and walked calmly into the bedroom, presumably to gather his things.

 

“Stop being a douche,” Steph said, standing up and puffing out her chest impressively, “It isn’t Roy’s fault that your girlfriend’s dad went crazy and jumped off a building.”

 

“Why are you still here again? You made your delivery, right?” I said, dismissing her.

 

“Come on, don’t be like this, it isn’t you.”

 

“Isn’t me? You don’t even know me. We’ve literally known each other’s identities for a few days.”

 

“And you’ve been teaching me for months. Or are you trying to tell me that you’ve been captain dick brain under the mask all this time?”

 

“Yep, that’s me, I was bitten by a radioactive dick, and now I make it my mission to piss off wannabe vigilantes who parade around in purple linens,” I growled.

 

“Dude, don’t even go there, we’ve all seen the Robin costume,”

 

“She’s got you there!” Roy yelled from the bedroom.

 

“How’s the packing going in there?” I yelled back, “Speedy, I hope!”

 

“That kinda talk isn’t going to make me go any faster, boy wonder!”

 

I made to move for the door, but Steph stood in my way, “Oh no, we’re not done here. I want an apology.”

 

“Alright, I’m sorry, now get out,” I said with a faux smile.

 

“I save your life, but god forbid I go one step further and bring you some damn clothes back to save you a trip. I thought you might appreciate the effort,” Steph said, her voice quivering with emotion, this wasn’t a joke anymore, “Hell, I thought you might even appreciate the company... Or need a friend.”

 

I looked down into her eyes, which were filled with more emotion than I’d ever seen in them before and realised that I’d just used her and Roy as verbal punching bags.

 

“Let’s not make a habit of this,” I said softly.

 

“Shouting at each other?” She asked.

 

“No, you being right.”

 

She laughed, and a look passed between us for a fleeting second, like maybe we should hug. But we agreed with looks of embarrassment that we weren’t quite there yet.

 

I awkwardly ran my fingers through my hair and looked anywhere but at her.

 

Steph and I sat back down at the table, and I filled her in with everything that had happened at the station, going over the incident a step at a time to fill in any blanks in Steph’s understanding of the events.

 

"This is all kinds of screwed up," Steph said.

 

"Yeah, we're going to have to get to the bottom of this quickly, I don't think Daggett is going to be the last person they hurt," I explained.

 

"We?" Steph said brightly.

 

I nodded, "You still have a lot to learn, and if I tell you to lay low I expect you to do it... But, you have proven a lot to me recently, and I want to keep working with you, as long as you know that I'm in charge."

 

Steph rolled her eyes jokingly, "Yes, boss."

 

I looked over at the bedroom door, realising it had been a while since I'd heard Roy stirring, "What the hell is he doing in there?"

 

"Beats me, maybe he's gone to sleep," Steph shrugged.

 

"Roy?" I said, getting up and moving to the door, "You better not be in my bed."

 

My bedroom window was wide open, the wardrobe closed and the bed neatly made, with no one in it. Roy was gone.

 

“Damn, I didn’t think he’d actually go,” I said, more to myself than anyone else.

 

Steph appeared next to me, "You were pretty harsh, maybe you hurt his feelings."

 

"I didn't know he had any," I said.

 

“Let that guilt you're feeling be a lesson to you,” Came a voice from back in the kitchen, “Not to mistreat your friends, even the moochy ones.”

 

Steph and I looked around, Roy stood with an enormous grin on his face and a tray of sandwiches from the deli down the street, “I couldn’t remember which one you liked, and it kind of ruins the impact of the guilt trip if I ask you what you want, so I just picked up a bit of everything.”

 

"Nice one!" Steph grinned, skipping over and grabbing a sandwich.

 

I didn’t say anything but smiled as I grabbed a ham salad from the tray and sat down. I brought the sandwich to my lips and sank more comfortably into the chair, allowing the smell of the fresh bread to fill my nostrils, and just as I was about to take a bite, there was a knock at the door.

 

_Damn._


	18. Gimme Some Truth

Alfred’s visit wasn’t nearly as offensive as the other knocks at the door had been that evening. As a matter of fact, seeing his smiling face was one of the few warm moments in what had otherwise been a harrowing 48 hours. He politely introduced himself to Steph, reintroduced himself to Roy, and then insisted that we have our conversation in the loft.

 

The butler gestured us to go up the stairs ahead of him, gentlemanly as ever. I noticed that he’d brought a large steel briefcase with him, but decided not to mention it.

 

“So,” Alfred began, once we’d all gathered round in the loft, “We have been exhausting our resources over the last few days looking for mention of this Court Of Owls. We’ve found very little outside of fairy tales and horror stories. The most we have come up with so far is that they have some connection to the founding families of Gotham City. One of those families being the Waynes, Master Bruce and Miss Gordon are working through the family archives as we speak.”

 

“That's good; maybe they'll find something that isn't public knowledge. I have a lead of my own actually,” I cut in.

 

“Yes, Master Bruce mentioned, and he’d like you to follow it up if you can,” Alfred explained.

 

“What’s the lead?” Roy asked.

 

“Stan, Daggett mentioned him when he was arguing with the Scarecrow. He’s the reason the Owls went after Detective Yin,” I explained.

 

“Great, then let’s go put an arrow in him,” Roy said, moving toward his bow.

 

Alfred raised a hand to halt Roy, “Please Mr Harper, a moment more of your time if it isn’t too much trouble.”

 

Roy nodded and turned his attention back to Alfred.

 

The butler leaned down and unclipped the metal briefcase. Steph and Roy leaned forward eagerly to see the contents. The girl’s eyes, in particular, lit up when Alfred opened the lid and turned it to us.

 

In the case, folded neatly together, was a black mask and an armoured purple garment.

 

“I hope the measurements Master Grayson provided we’re accurate, Miss Brown,” Alfred said with a smile, before gesturing her to step forward and take the gift.

 

Delighted, Steph unfurled and picked up the outfit, beaming at Alfred, “This is so awesome, thank you, thank you!”

 

“No trouble at all, Miss Brown,” Alfred nodded.

 

“You gonna go try it on?” Roy asked.

 

“Can I?” Steph said, aiming her question at Alfred.

 

“Of course,” He replied with a curt nod.

 

Steph giddily ran to the back of the loft where my costumes were displayed and pulled across the large curtain that separated the two halves of the room.

 

Alfred proceeded to reach into his jacket and pulled out a much smaller metal case and laid it on the table next to the larger one. Saying nothing, he opened it up to reveal three small syringes, each containing the same amount of clear fluid.

 

“You gonna truth serum us, Alfie?” Roy asked with a laugh.

 

I flicked Roy on the back of the head to shut him up, he responded by trying to slap me without looking and missed.

 

Alfred sighed and waited for us both to stop messing around before continuing, “These contain a prototype formula. There are no guarantees, but we believe we may have synthesised an immunisation for the effects of the Vertigo toxin.”

 

“So, in theory, if the Scarecrow sprays one of us with that stuff we shouldn’t be affected?” I asked.

 

“In theory, or at the very least the effects will be lessened,” Alfred explained.

 

“That’s amazing.”

 

“Quite, it’s just a shame we weren’t able to finish the solution before the terrible incident with Mr Daggett.”

 

I didn’t say anything, he was right of course, but I didn't want to overthink about what could have been.

 

Alfred continued, “If you’d like to both come here, I will administer your doses. Miss Brown’s can wait until she’s finished trying on her outfit.”

 

“Is this permanent?” Roy asked, “The immunity I mean.”

 

“We believe it will last for a month at the most, meaning you will require a booster in four weeks, assuming we haven’t yet dealt with the threat in that time,” Alfred explained as Roy rolled up his sleeve.

 

"I hope we have, I've got places to be," Roy said.

 

"Nobody's forcing you to stay," I replied.

 

"What kind of friend would I be if I let Gotham get turned to rubble?"

 

"The kind of friend you are now?"

 

"Gentlemen, please," Alfred said, holding out a syringe.

 

The Butler jabbed us both in the arm with the shots. I felt a sharp jolt of lightheadedness as the solution made its way through my veins. The sensation didn’t last for more than a minute before I felt relatively normal again.

 

“What do you think?” Steph said in a muffled voice, unveiling herself from behind the curtain.

 

The brand new Spoiler outfit retained its trademark purple, albeit a slightly darker shade, but was now made from a much more robust, flame retardant material. The body, shoulders, arms and legs were padded with black lightweight Kevlar armour. Steph’s head was covered entirely with a black mask which no doubt contained a VISR system similar to the one in my mask. Pulled over the mask was the purple hood which attached to a flowing cape.

 

In each hand, Steph grasped an Escrima stick. They were similar in design to my own, but with purple trim.

 

“This is gonna take some getting used to,” Steph said, moving her hand closer and further away from her face. She turned sharply to Alfred, “But it’s a perfect fit, thank you!”

 

“It operates in the same way as the systems in Master Grayson’s own suit, so he should be able to teach you anything you need to know. Although from what he has told me, you are a swift learner, so I’m sure you’ll have no trouble,” Alfred told her.

 

I blushed briefly, I didn’t like her finding out I’d said anything nice, I was trying to be a stern teacher.

 

“Well,” I began, “We’ve got a couple of hours til dark, so if nobody minds, I’m gonna catch up on some shut eye.”

 

"By all means, Master Grayson, I must return to the manor and assist with the investigation. If you require anything further from us, please don't hesitate to get in touch," Alfred said, "I shall do the same if we come up with anything of use. And, good luck."

 

"Thanks, Alfred."

 

***

 

I slept for the remainder of the afternoon once Alfred had jabbed Steph and gone home. She and Roy watched TV together while I was in bed, she was too excited about trying out her new threads to go home.

 

We left through the roof, fully costumed as a trio. I had replaced the armoured chest plate of the Red Hood suit with pieces from my old outfit which I’d sprayed completely black. I kept the red hood attached, that way if I made anymore big mistakes, the new persona that the cops had created would be blamed, and Nightwing’s record could stay clean. Hopefully.

 

Our first stop was Stan’s brothel, which naturally had been cleared out after our fight there, but that didn’t mean there wouldn’t be clues. We entered silently through the roof, in case Stan had left any surprises behind.

 

I led the way and crept into the loft; the door was still wide open from when Bruce and I had broken in. I crept forward, scanning between the beams and through the cracks in the floorboards. No one had been up there since our last visit it seemed.

 

“See anything?” Roy whispered from behind me.

 

“Nothing,” I whispered back, “Stairs are this way, I think it’s safe to go down.”

 

Moving for the stairs, I continued to vigilantly check every nook and cranny of the loft en route. Steph nodded the all clear as I looked back to her before making my way down the stairs.

 

The place looked pretty much as I’d left it, barring a few extra broken pieces of wood and a door hanging off its hinges. Most likely damage done by Batman once I’d passed out.

 

I scanned the whole floor thermally before proceeding; there definitely wasn’t anyone on this level.

 

“There’s nobody here,” I said, relaxing slightly, “We’ll take a room each to start with, we’re looking for anything that might lead us to Stan.”

 

“Alright, cool, I’ll take this one,” Roy said, going through a door to my right.

 

“I got this one,” Steph said, stepping into the room with the hanging door.

 

I went straight for the room where Stan and the Talon had been the last time I was here, making sure to peer into the 'toy room' I’d used as a hiding place on the way. That room had been completely cleared of its perverse collection and was left bare.

 

The office room was completely turned over, all of the furniture was trashed, and the desk drawers had been pulled out, what remained of their contents were strewn across the floor. I grabbed some stacks of paper and scanned over them. Worthless invoices for stationery and other above board items, all addressed to the building I was stood in.

 

Using the UV light setting on my VISR I scanned for invisible ink, an old trick but you never know. No invisible writing was to be seen; a few other suspicious marks appeared on the broken bits of furniture which was when I decided to turn off the UV light entirely.

 

It seemed after a few minutes of rummaging through the paper and checking every corner for hidden compartments, everything of importance had been removed.

 

“Nothing back there,” Roy said, peeking around the door, “Any luck?”

 

“Not a thing,” I said, “How’s Spoiler doing?”

 

“Don’t know,” He replied.

 

“Let’s go find out.”

 

Spoiler was crouched on the floor when we got to the room, running her fingers down what looked to be a regular floorboard.

 

“I think,” She said without looking up, “That there’s a trapdoor down here.”

 

“What makes you say that?” Roy asked.

 

“The floor in here didn’t creak, and this section of wood looks newer than the rest,” She explained, "Plus, it's a perfect square, how many floors have a random square in the middle?"

 

I nodded to Roy, impressed, and we leaned down to help. Sure enough, a false floor panel lifted up to reveal a latch. A scorch mark indicated that there might have been a padlock of some kind on the latch, but it had been burned away.

 

“Go ahead,” I said gesturing to Steph, “It’s your find.”

 

She grabbed the latch and flipped it, heaving up the trap door. The door itself was made of thick metal, and the wood had been merely glued onto the top which accounted for the lack of creaking.

 

Beneath the door was pitch dark, I turned on my night vision and could see a ladder which appeared to go all the way down through the building to the basement level. Looking again with thermals I could see that there was a lot of heat coming from the basement.

 

“I’ll go first,” I said, “There’s a lot of heat down there, looks to be coming from pipes. That could be masking any number of people, so be on high alert. Don’t follow me until I give the signal.”

 

Surprisingly, no one argued, I thought for sure Steph was going to want to follow me straight down, but she’d been obeying orders perfectly so far. Maybe she was learning, or perhaps she wasn’t arguing in case we took back the new suit.

 

I slid down on to the ladder which felt pretty sturdy. On the climb down I noticed the walls were all entirely metal. At first I thought this was some kind of panic room, but I was starting to wonder if it was a bomb shelter.

 

As I thought, once I reached the bottom, I saw a series of hot pipes running along the walls which meant my thermals were useless. The night vision was pretty handy though; I could see a refrigerator, a bed, a sofa, a table and chairs and even a TV. I hopped off the ladder and could feel carpet under my feet.

 

One of the chairs was untucked from under the table, and in front of it was a plate with a half-eaten croissant on it. The lights were off, but someone was definitely home.

 

“Roy,” I whispered softly into my comm, “Throw a flare down here.”

 

“What? Why?” He replied.

 

“Just do it.”

 

I heard a distant fizzing, and a few seconds later the room lit up bright red. Immediately I leapt behind the refrigerator as a figure emerged from behind the sofa and began shooting in my direction with a pistol.

 

I managed not to get hit as I pressed myself beside the fridge.

 

“Get away; you’re not taking me! Not going nowhere with you!” The figure shouted, it wasn’t Stan, it was a woman’s voice.

 

“I’m not here to hurt you,” I tried to explain.

 

I peered out sharply and saw that the woman was moving closer to the flare. I had a plan but it didn’t matter, as soon as she was under the ladder she let out a shriek and I heard the gun clatter as it hit the smouldering carpet.

 

Looking out again, I could see she had an arrow piercing her forearm. I moved quickly toward her while she cradled her wound. She screamed again as I threw her back on to the couch and flicked the light switch near the ladder.

 

The lights flickered at first and then filled the room brightly white. I could see now that wallpaper had been randomly stuck on to parts of the metal wall to make it appear more homely. There was a toilet fitted in the corner with a curtain that pulled around for privacy. I guessed that Stan had this place made in case of emergencies.

 

“You can come down now,” I called up.

 

“Please, don’t take me, don’t wanna leave here,” The woman whimpered, holding her forearm tightly and staring at the arrow.

 

In the light, the woman looked terrified, her clothes were dirty, and her dark hair looked to not have been washed in days. I imagined at one time or another she’d been beautiful, but her face was weathered and gaunt like someone who had been abusing drugs for far too long.

 

“The only place I’ll be taking you is the hospital,” I replied, “So long as you answer all of my questions.”

 

“I’ll tell you anything you... Anything you wanna know, swear it,” She whimpered.

 

“What’s your name?” I asked.

 

“Sugar...”

 

“That your real name?”

 

“No... Parents called me Juliana. Stan call me Sugar.”

 

Roy dropped down behind me and began to stomp out the flare which was burning a hole in the carpet.

 

“Speedy,” I said to him, “Find Juliana some bandages and clean up your mess.”

 

“Aye aye captain,” Roy said mockingly, “And it’s Red Arrow.”

 

“Whatever Arsenal, just hurry up.”

 

Steph dropped down after Roy, spinning defensively around to make sure no surprises were waiting for her.

 

“At ease, Spoiler,” I began, “Start checking the cupboards and see if you can find anything useful.”

 

“Will do, boss,” She replied.

 

I pulled one of the chairs out from under the table and sat across from Juliana who was still quivering with fear; it appeared she knew better than to try and run away.

 

“How long have you been down here, Juliana?” I asked her.

 

“I’m not supposed to come down here, that’s what Stan said,” Juliana replied, “He said if he caught me down, here again, he’d put a bullet between my... my eyes. But he didn’t...”

 

“Right... How long have you been here? Was Stan down here too?”

 

“The Batman was upstairs, climbed down here to get away, I’m not supposed to know about this place, see,” Juliana explained, “Stan wasn’t here at first.”

 

“At first?”

 

“Uh huh, not sure how long after. Clock is broken, see, no night and day down here, easy to lose track. Stan shouted, but he didn’t shoot, said he was glad to see me.”

 

“Did Stan come down here to hide?” I asked.

 

“That’s right, big birds were coming to get him, didn’t want me though,” Juliana said.

 

“Did the big birds come down here?”

 

Juliana shuddered and began to nod furiously, “They grabbed him, said they was going home, made Stan fall asleep.”

 

“So they didn’t kill him?”

 

“Don’t think so, hope not, his legs went funny and he fell over,” She said.

 

Juliana gasped as Roy appeared behind her with a first aid kit and some pliers.

 

“We’re better off leaving this in,” Roy explained as he grabbed Juliana’s arm. The woman shuddered and tried to pull away.

 

“Don’t worry; he’s going to help you,” I reassured her.

 

“Well...” Roy said with a shrug. A loud snap followed as he broke off the part of the arrow sticking out of the top of Juliana’s forearm. She didn’t scream, but tears began to flood her face as she bit her lip.

 

Roy turned Juliana’s arm over and repeated the process with the other side of the arrow, leaving only a small piece of it in her arm to keep the bleeding to a minimum. He then cleaned the area with some tissue and wrapped a bandage around her arm.

 

As soon as Roy loosened his grip, Juliana pulled her arm away and cradled it again.

 

I waited a moment for Juliana to calm down a little and said: “I think the big bird is going to kill Stan.”

 

Juliana gasped, “No no, big bird can’t do that, Stan said I’m his favourite, only lets me work with his special friends.”

 

“I might be able to save Stan, if you can tell me where he is,” I said.

 

“You like the Batman? Big superhero?”

 

“Yeah, something like that.”

 

“Stan got a nice apartment, took me there few times,” Juliana explained, “Nicer than down here, not as safe.”

 

“Can you tell me the address?” I asked her hopefully.

 

“On the river, balcony looks over the water, beautiful view, can see Wayne tower and everything,” She told me, a euphoric smile on her face.

 

“Do you know what the building is called?”

 

“Sure, it’s a horse,” She said gleefully.

 

“What?” I replied, confused.

 

“Stallion house,” Steph interjected, “It’s on the waterfront, I know it.”

 

“That’s right, Stallion,” Juliana said.

 

“Do you know the number?” I asked her.

 

“Yeah, yeah, forty-two, forty-two.”

 

I stood up, not seeing much more use in questioning Juliana.

 

“Spoiler, you’re with me, we’re going to hit up Stan’s apartment. There might be some clues there that can lead us to him,” I said, “Speedy, I need you to take Juliana to the hospital, we’ll rendezvous back at base.”

 

Roy sighed, “Great, give me the fun jobs why don’t you.”

 

“Next time, aim for the gun, then you won’t have as much of a mess to clean up,” I said with a shrug.

 

“Can we go now?” Steph asked.

 

“Sure, no time to waste. Did you find anything useful?”

 

"Nothing here," Steph said, "Just a load of crappy frozen food, toilet roll and stuff."

 

"Alright, let's go."

 

***

 

Stallion House hung over the waterfront, shining silver in the glow of the moon. I’d downloaded the building’s floor-plan into my VISR on the journey there and calculated the location of apartment 42. Typically it was near to the top of the building.

 

Steph and I had climbed the building on the street-facing side and were looking down at the balconies hovering over the river.

 

“What are we waiting for?” Steph asked.

 

I pointed down to one of the balconies where a man was stood having a cigarette, “We’re better off waiting for him to go inside, there’s no way he won’t see us. The last thing we want is someone calling the cops; we need time to look around.”

 

“Right, of course,” Steph said, seemingly taking a mental note.

 

“Here, take this,” I said, handing Steph a small device with a blue button on it, “It’s a mini EMP, if anything goes wrong in there it should take out all the electrics in the building temporarily.”

 

“I thought we were just checking out an apartment?” Steph said, sounding nervous.

 

“Yeah and don’t forget what happened last time we did that,” I said.

 

The man threw the butt of his cigarette off the balcony and into the river. Instead of going right inside, he placed his hands on the ledge and began to admire the water.

 

“What’s he screwing around for, can’t we just knock him out?” Steph asked.

 

“Sure, why don’t we just throw him in the water while we’re at it?” I said sarcastically.

 

“I was only joking, jeez.”

 

The man’s wife or possibly girlfriend emerged and kissed him on the cheek, standing next to him on the balcony. They talked for a moment and then she beckoned him inside.

 

“Ready?” I asked Steph.

 

“Ready,” She replied.

 

I attached a wire to the edge of the building and began to abseil down the side. I moved quickly passed windows and over balconies and managed not to be seen before detaching myself on Stan’s.

 

The curtains behind the sliding glass door were closed, and the lights were off. There was too much activity on the floor to get an accurate thermal picture of the inside of the room, although it looked like a man was sitting on a chair in the bedroom.

 

Steph landed beside me, and I signalled her to reel in the wire, which she did right away.

 

I began to pick the lock on the sliding door as Steph scanned the lower and upper balconies for any surprises.

 

The door came open quite easily, and I slid the curtains open. The lounge area was full of loud and extravagant furniture, much more fitting for Stan than the rundown brothel.

 

“Stay out here,” I whispered, “Let me check it out first.”

 

Steph complied and began to look over the balcony ledge again.

 

After scanning the room for any traps, I went straight for the bedroom door. I clasped the ornate handle and turned it as gently as I could. Without so much as a creak, it opened.

 

Stan was facing the door, bound and gagged in an office chair - he was alive, that was something. But why would they bring him back here?

 

I unsheathed my escrima sticks and looked around the bedroom before moving toward Stan, he was awake and trying frantically to speak.

 

His gag was tied tight, but I managed to pull it off. With a dry and raspy voice, Stan managed to say: “Behind... You...”

 

Too late. I felt a foot smash into my back and launch me on to the floor beside Stan. Before I could turn over another kick swept the side of my head.

 

A Talon stood over me with a pair of hooked blades in hand, but he didn’t attack again as Steph landed a kick of her own in the back of his knee, causing him to fumble and turn on her.

 

I sprung upwards and struck his head with my escrima stick, and the three of us tumbled into the lounge.

 

“This is futile, Nightwing, surrender and your life will be spared,” The Talon said, blocking an attack from Steph and myself simultaneously.

 

“I don’t think so, Feathers, I’m taking you in this time,” I growled, throwing a fist at the Owl’s face.

 

The bird dodged and slashed for my throat with his knife, narrowly missing. Using the move to my advantage, I dropped my sticks and grabbed his wrist with both hands, twisting the knife out of his grip, following with a kick to his chest which knocked him back into a bookshelf by the balcony door.

 

"You're losing your touch, birdy!" I taunted.

 

Steph jumped through the air with her leg outstretched, but the Talon caught her foot and flung her into the glass door, smashing it. I lunged over and grabbed the Owl before he could get to her again and pulled the other knife from his hand.

 

Not giving him a moment, I pummelled his head repeatedly, smashing it into the bookshelf. He was strong, but no one could put up with that kind of punishment for long.

 

"Go. To. Sleep!" I snarled.

 

Blinded by rage and determination, I missed the Talon’s sleight of hand as he grasped an antique vase that was within his reach. The base was already in pieces and smashed on the side of my head before I’d realised what had happened.

 

My legs buckled and I careered into a coffee table which broke under my weight. The Talon didn’t move for me; he instead turned his attention back to Steph who hadn’t got up.

 

Using the couch, I got to my feet as quickly as I could and launched a batarang straight at the Owl’s head. His reflexes were inhuman, catching the Batarang between two fingers before it hit his mask.

 

The Talon picked up a bust from a nearby chest of drawers and threw it at me, in the time it took me to dodge out of the way, he’d picked Spoiler up.

 

“Put her down!” I said, leaping forward.

 

“As you wish,” He replied, throwing her through the open doors and over the edge of the balcony.

 

“No!” I yelled, but the Talon caught me by the throat before I could get past him. The prick of a sharp needle jabbed into my neck, and I suddenly fell limp, "A little something to calm you down, my loquacious friend."

 

I was perfectly aware of my surroundings, but I couldn’t move a muscle. The Talon threw me down on the couch and walked into the bedroom.

 

“Get... Back... Here,” I managed to mumble.

 

The Talon pushed Stan’s chair into the lounge but didn’t untie him.

 

“You got him,” Stan said, “Good job, that mean you’re gonna let me go?”

 

The Talon ignored the question and said, “Would you like to see under the mask?”

 

“Sure, I guess so, you gonna untie me after that or what?” Stan asked, starting to sweat.

 

Again, the Talon ignored him and moved towards me. He sat me up and turned my head to face Stan directly, pulling down the Red Hood and removing my mask. There was nothing I could do to stop him.

 

“Well I’ll be, it’s that punk kid, the Wayne kid,” Stan said, surprised, “Can you free me now?”

 

“Of course,” replied the Talon genially.

 

Stan never spoke another word; there wasn’t even time to scream. A trickle of blood ran down the old man’s face and passed his eye like a red tear as his pupils grew wide. My Batarang was protruding from his forehead.

 

“I’d hoped you’d come alone, Dick,” The Talon said, not sounding at all surprised by my identity, “We had no quarrel with the girl, she might have lived had she stayed at home.”

 

“Why... Are you... Doing this?” I growled as best I could.

 

“This is our city, it always has been, and we have to keep order," He explained, "But I... I have something of a personal interest in you, one that I’ve had to put aside for many years.”

 

“What... are you talking about?”

 

“The court does not allow us to pursue personal matters. You might say we're 'all business. So in a way, I’m glad you found out about us, or I may not have had the opportunity to meet you.”

 

“Who... The hell... Are you?” I said through gritted teeth, trying with every fibre of my being to move forward.

 

“I am a Talon, the weapon of the Court Of Owls, a keeper of order...” He said, removing his mask. He had dark hair, and his face looked no older than my own, there was a strange familiarity to it. Patches of his flesh looked rotten like he'd died and come back to life. His eyes were piercing and golden.

 

The man leaned in close, inches from my face so that I could smell his putrid flesh, “But in my life before the Court... I was known as Richard Grayson.”


	19. Old Man

I stared into the Talon’s bright yellow eyes... More confused than surprised. What the hell was he talking about? He wasn’t me? How could he be? He barely even looked like me. Sure, we had similar hair, and we were around the same age, but that was where the similarities ended.

 

Was this some elaborate way of telling me we had the same name? Could he be a clone? Or from a parallel Earth? If so, why would he be working with the court?

 

Neither of us had spoken for a moment, both staying as still as Stan’s wide-eyed corpse. For me, it was the effect of the drugs stopping me from lashing out and beating the feathers out of my assailant. For him I guess it was the dramatic effect, anyone who goes around dressed like an Owl complete with feathers must like theatrics. As though I was one to talk.

 

I finally opened my mouth to speak weakly, “Is this a joke? If it is, I think... I missed the punchline.”

 

‘Richard’ didn’t answer, he moved over to Stan and dragged his lifeless body, still tied to the chair, back into the bedroom. I managed to move my head enough to see him disappear around the corner. Once he was out of sight, I tried to wriggle with all the willpower I could muster and achieved nothing. Whatever the drug was, it was powerful.

 

“Do you know anything about the founding families, Dick?” Richard’s voice carried from the bedroom. He walked back out with a sickly smile across his rotting face, picking up one of his curved knives and sliding it into one of the sheaths around his waist.

 

I didn’t respond to him; I was sure he was going to enlighten me anyway.

 

“This city was ‘founded’ by five wealthy families in the aftermath of the American Revolution. Among those families were, of course, the Waynes, whom you know very well,” He began, striding over to where he'd dropped his other knife and picking it up.

 

“Where are you going with this?” I rasped.

 

“Patience, patience,” Richard said, sheathing the second blade, “The families together formed a secret society, to control all of the comings and goings in Gotham, business, crime, et cetera, et cetera.”

 

“The Court...” I said, looking unimpressed.

 

“Yes, or the parliament, depending on who you speak to. Over the years, the descendants of some of the families chose to abandon the organisation, the Waynes and the Kane’s being first - followed shortly thereafter by the Cobblepots and the Elliots. Eventually leaving only the founders themselves, which meant the society would die with them," Richard droned on, seeming impressed with himself, "Which is why they turned to darker means, to keep themselves alive long past their natural expiration. But what they became meant they must retreat forever into the shadows. In order to hold and enforce their influence, other families were allowed to join the court as initiates and benefit from the Court’s resources, with certain conditions, depending on their value.”

 

“Like Roland Daggett,” I added, finding myself strangely engrossed in the tale.

 

“Precisely, until he started getting ideas above his station,” He replied.

 

“What has any of this... Got to do with me?”

 

“One of the first families to pledge themselves to the Court, was the Cobbs. They were not wealthy, but they had a tradition among their family which would prove invaluable to us," Richard continued, seemingly ignoring my question, "You see, the Cobbs were performers, training their children from a young age to accomplish magnificent feats for the ever-adoring public. And so, the Cobbs pledged to give their firstborn children of every generation to the Court at the age of nine - thus, the Talons were born.”

 

“That’s disgusting,” I spat.

 

“Other, less fortunate families followed suit, and we Talons grew in number. The magic of the Court Elders allowing us unnatural long life,” He explained.

 

“Which explains why you look like rotten dumpster meat."

 

This seemed to offend him slightly as he had to compose himself with an exaggerated exhale before continuing, “I have only recently undergone the transformation, it gets much worse, trust me. Not that it’s going to matter to you.”

 

“Do you wanna wrap up this story and kill me yet, ‘Dick’, I’m getting pretty tired,” I mocked with a smile which was meant to rile him further.

 

Richard inclined his head curtly and went on, not giving the desired reaction, “Some years ago, the Cobbs’ last living descendants were part of a travelling circus...”

 

His mouth curled into a knowing smile which cut through me like a knife. I felt a shiver of cold run the length of my spine.

 

“Tell me, Dick, do you know what they called these descendants?” Richard asked.

 

My blood had frozen, a tight knot had developed in my stomach. I knew the answer, but I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of saying it. I don’t think I could have if I’d wanted to.

 

“John Grayson never told his wife about the Court, or what he was going to have to do on his son’s ninth birthday. He thought that travelling with the circus meant that he could escape, but he was wrong. Six months before you were to turn nine, your father received a plume of grey feathers that had been left in his room, and he knew there was nowhere to run. Desperate, not wanting to lose his beloved boy, he hatched a plan.”

 

“You’re lying... You’re lying...” I repeated, wishing I believed what I was saying.

 

“Don’t you remember? Playing in the sandpit together that day? The strange boy your father brought to stay with you?” Richard asked.

 

I felt like I was going to throw up, tears in my eyes, every nerve in my body was crawling with disgust, “Shut up, I don’t want to hear any more,” I remembered the boy.

 

“He told me he was my father too. John Grayson, the day he came to the orphanage to take me. He said that there’d been a mistake when I was born and that he’d finally come to take me home. He told me my name was Richard. I remember crying that day like you are now, I finally had a family, all those years of loneliness and not being wanted were behind me, I was going home. I allowed myself to envision a future while we played in the sand together for those brief moments. Then, he took my hand and led me off into the woods, and handed me to the monsters.”

 

“My father would never...” I said, refusing to believe what he was saying, “He was a good man.”

 

“John Grayson loved his son more than life itself, but he was far from a good man,” Richard spat, his face now full of rage and venom.

 

“It’s all lies; you’re just trying to mess with my head!” I felt my arm move.

 

“Why do you think we killed him?”

 

“Tony Zucco killed my father, not your goddamn Talons,” I shouted.

 

“Tony Zucco did as he was told.”

 

Channelling my anger, I managed to lunge forward and grab Richard by the throat, forcing him back into the wall. He grinned and threw me back down with ease, raising his wrist to reveal a device similar to the one Scarecrow used to spray Daggett. A puff of gas hit my face, and I breathed it in involuntarily.

 

Smiling menacingly, he took out my comm earpiece and crushed it under his foot, before putting my mask back over my eyes and pulling up the red hood.

 

“When the police get here, you’re going to be so rampant with fear that they’ll shoot you dead. That is of course if the toxin hasn’t finished you off by then,” Richard said, putting his mask back on, “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure Miss Daggett is taken care of. She’ll need a shoulder to lean on when she finds out her boyfriend is a serial killer who murdered her father. No one is going to be too surprised when she commits suicide.”

 

I didn’t know what to do; I was starting to feel stranger and stranger, the vaccine wasn’t working.

 

Richard opened a drawer and pulled out a mobile phone which must have been one of Stan’s burners, “Hello,” He said in a whimpering voice, “Hello police, I need some help, I think one of my neighbours is being attacked at forty-two Stallion house on the waterfront... Yes... Please hurry, the man who attacked him had a red hood... Yes, like the one in the papers... Thank you... I will.”

 

He threw the phone straight off the balcony and then made to follow it, “Goodbye, Dick; it’s nice to know you’re finally going to get what you deserve.”

 

***

 

Five minutes had passed, the toxin still hadn’t kicked in properly, maybe Alfred's shot had worked after all. Which was all great news, but the police were going to arrive before long, and I still couldn’t move. For all I knew, Steph was dead, and if I died or got caught the Talon would be going after Melissa next to tie up loose ends.

 

My whole world felt like it had been shattered in the course of a single conversation, my father was no better than Roland Daggett, and my mother died because of something he’d done. I couldn’t shake the awful feeling in the pit of my stomach; I couldn’t move at all.

 

The clock marched on, and I succeeded in wiggling my fingers, then slowly my wrist, then the rest of my right arm. Throwing it left I grabbed the edge of the couch and managed to haul myself on to the floor and through the debris of the coffee table.

 

Sirens started to grow closer and closer; I had about two minutes to get myself over the balcony and away from the area before the cops swarmed the place. Which might have been reasonable if I could move anything other than my right arm, which was starting to numb again.

 

“Come on!” I yelled exhaustedly, “Come on!”

 

I succeeded in grabbing on to some carpet and pulled myself another foot before my arm totally gave out again.

 

Face down in the pile of broken wood and glass I began to contemplate what would happen next when the police found me on the ground. I could tell them what happened, they may even believe me, Gordon probably would - but the secret would be out.

 

The sirens were now as close as they were going to get, the police had arrived and were no doubt making their way up the stairs. I gave out one last sigh, and everything went black.

 

And I mean, everything. The lights and systems throughout the whole of the building and across the river on the other bank went dark.

 

“Dude,” Steph’s exasperated voice said, “I thought you said this thing would only take out the building, the power has gone out for like ten blocks.”

 

“Spoiler, thank god,” I said, as she heaved me to my feet.

 

“What the hell happened here?” She asked.

 

“I’ll tell you later; we gotta go, the cops are coming,” I explained as we made our way to the balcony.

 

“I figured. Is Stan dead? He looks pretty dead.”

 

“He’s dead, the Talon got away,” I told her, “We’ve got to get to the roof, right now.”

 

“The roof? They’ll catch us up there!” Steph protested, “We’re better off in the river.”

 

“I can’t swim like this, and they can shoot us when we’re in the water.”

 

“Fine,” She sighed, firing a line up to the roof and grabbing my waist tightly. We zipped up to the roof, and Steph managed to throw me up with some effort.

 

“What now, smartass?” She said, gasping for breath.

 

“Look for a ventilation shaft; I can climb inside and wait it out until this wears off,” I explained.

 

“I can’t just leave you up here,” Steph said dragging me to one side and sitting me up against the roof door.

 

“You don’t have much choice; they’ll be sending choppers soon, we were lucky to outrun those last time.”

 

“Fine, then I’ll wait it out too,” She was stubborn, I hated that, but I was entirely at her mercy and unable to move, so I nodded, and she got to work opening up a vent.

 

Without prompting, Steph dragged me along and using what strength I could muster in my right arm, I slipped inside and pulled myself down along the tunnel. Steph crawled in after me and closed the vent behind us.

 

“How long is this gonna take?” Steph whispered.

 

***

 

An hour, it took a whole hour for me to be able to move again. I nudged Steph who had somehow managed to fall asleep while I laid awake wrapped with tension. I’d heard the cops walking below me, checking the rooms, and an officer definitely scanned over the roof but didn’t think to check the vents. Sloppy work, but good for us.

 

The power had come back on while we waited and I’d overheard one of the officers talking to the building’s superintendent who said that the apartment below us was empty and the occupants were out of town, which gave me an idea.

 

“Right,” I began, “The grates are too small for us to squeeze through, but the apartment directly below us is empty.”

 

“But, we can’t get in?” Steph replied with a yawn.

 

“Not from here, but we can sneak down the stairs and hide in there, we’ll just have to be quick,” I explained.

 

“Fair enough, you fit enough to do this?”

 

“Let’s find out.”

 

Steph had to pull me up out of the vent, but I managed to stand up alright once I was on the roof again. She snorted a laugh as I did a little jig on the spot to make sure all of my appendages were working.

 

There were no cops on the floor below, and I managed to pick the lock into the apartment with ease and bolt it behind me.

 

Steph eagerly raided the wardrobe in the bedroom for a suitable outfit for the pair of us to change into, while I searched one of the other closets for some bags. I found a decent sized rucksack and a gym bag which were fit for purpose and threw them down on the kitchen worktop.

 

“Write down the address for this place,” I called to Steph.

 

“Why?” She called back.

 

“To mail them their stuff back. We aren’t criminals, Steph.”

 

“Well... Vigilantes are technically criminals but whatever.”

 

“Shut up and find me an outfit,” I said, not in the mood for her snark.

 

“Got one, it’s super sexy...” She laughed, passing a garish Hawaiian shirt and a pair of flared jeans through the door.

 

"Gee, thanks," I said as I held them up, "I'm guessing this was the worst thing you could find?"

 

"Pretty much," She said, laughing before throwing a slightly more appropriate outfit my way, "There's nothing in my size, the lady who lives here must be pretty tall - what do you think?"

 

She stepped out of the room in jeans and a button up shirt which she'd had to tie in the middle; it didn't look too conspicuous, so I gave her a less than enthusiastic thumbs up as I started to slip out of my costume.

 

"I'm gonna have to shuffle in her shoes, they're all way too big," Steph explained as she stuffed her costume into the gym bag I'd left out for her.

 

The man's clothes fit me pretty well, I had to add another notch to the belt with a kitchen knife, and the shoes felt a little tight on the toes but compared to what I'd dealt with over the last few days I really didn't give a shit.

 

***

 

The police presence was minimal on the top floor, most of it had been concentrated to Stan's level which was swarming with detectives and SWAT officers. And the ground floor where everyone passing through was, unfortunately, being searched before entering and leaving the building.

 

Steph and I peered around the corner from the door of the stairwell, having made it to the ground floor with no issues.

 

"What the hell do we do now?" Steph asked, looking sheepish.

 

"They're searching bags," I began, "We're gonna have to hide these somewhere... Unless..."

 

"Unless?"

 

I pointed to the reception desk, indicating the fire exit sign behind it which didn't appear to be manned by an officer. There were a handful of smoke pellets in the rucksack which I'd removed from my utility belt. I planned to throw one at the main door to confuse the cops, and another at the reception desk to cover our tracks, I explained this to Steph who agreed and took off her over-large shoes to make it across the hall without falling over.

 

We didn't need to communicate any further, I took a breath, and threw the first pellet towards the main door and watched it explode with a massive cloud of thick black smoke. The second pellet exploded, and it only took two large strides and a hop to get over the reception desk and through the door and down the staircase which led to the lower parking garage. At the foot of the stairwell was one door which led to the parking garage and another which led straight out of the building.

 

Hand in hand we charged through the exit and up the concrete steps to the waterfront.

 

"Stop right there!" A cop's voice shouted from behind us.

 

"This was a shitty idea!" Steph exclaimed as we ran along the waterfront.

 

"Super shitty, but we're committed now!" I panted as the officer in tow let off a warning shot.

 

"He's gonna kill us, man, what the hell is the plan!" She screeched as we continued to sprint along the waterfront path.

 

"Hold on," I said, pulling her closer to me and throwing another pellet at the ground.

 

"Wait, I thought you said we couldn't go in the –" Her sentence was cut off as we hit the water and went under. I had to hope she could hold her breath as I swam down, dragging her alongside. If I'd timed my jump correctly, we were going to have to swim underwater for about a minute before coming up for air.

 

Steph scratched at the back of my hand, and I turned to look back, she was struggling to hold her breath and panicking. Bruce had taught me one technique for a situation like this, but we'd never actually put it into practice thankfully as it may have been a little awkward, not that this wasn't going to be. Trying not to waste time I grabbed Steph by the back of the head and breathed a lungful of air into her mouth. Her eyes were wide with something resembling surprise and disgust, but I think I'd given her an extra minute.

 

The technique turned out to be pretty flawed, as I realised after a few more strokes that now I couldn't breathe. Then I remembered that the person transferring air should be going up to the surface and taking in the oxygen for someone who was trapped under the water, all of this was flooding through my brain as it began to starve. I had no option but to go up.

 

Breathing never felt so good as I came up, and I thankfully couldn't see the cop above us. I could, however, see the waste water pipe I was aiming for which was just a few metres away. Steph surfaced and followed my path to the pipe, which I could just about reach if I threw myself upwards.

 

"You may want to cover your mouth," I said, referring to the wastewater spilling from the pipe, it wasn't raw sewage, but it was still gross.

 

"I think my mouth may be contaminated for the rest of time anyway, to be honest," Steph replied dryly.

 

Not replying, I pulled myself up into the pipe and reached a hand down for her. She followed me up and gave me an incredibly sharp look. The wastewater was only flowing at foot height, and we could almost stand up in the pipe which made it easy to navigate our way to the end.

 

"We gotta stop ending up in places like this," Steph said after a few minutes of silence, "Next time let's just leave the bag and walk past the cops."

 

We'd come to a set of bars on the pipe which we couldn't fit through. It was a simple case of blowing out one of the bars with the explosive gel on my utility belt.

 

"Yeah, I'll find a better place for our next date," I joked.

 

"Ew, don't even joke after what happened back there," Steph said, fake-shuddering.

 

"Stand back," I said, taking a step backwards and triggered the tiny explosion which left us with a clear path through to the end of the tunnel, "There should be a huge duct at the end we can zip up and get changed."

 

"Thank god, I smell like rotten ass."

 

"Nothing new there then."

 

"Shut up, douche."

 

***

 

"What is this place?" Steph asked, peering down the vast duct we'd just emerged from as she pulled on her costume.

 

"I think it's where they treat the water," I said.

 

"Why's it gotta be so deep?" She asked, spitting over the edge and watching the ball of mucus splash into the shallow water below.

 

"In case of flooding, I guess?" I replied, not really knowing the answer.

 

"Hmm, seems a bit much if you ask me, and what is with that door?" Steph pointed to a large metal door which looked very out of place. From the size of the thing, it looked like it could fit a truck through it.

 

"That is pretty odd, maybe it leads to the old subway," I pulled up my hood and tossed the wet clothes into the rucksack, "I don't think those people are gonna want their clothes back."

 

"Just send 'em some money maybe?"

 

"Good idea, we'll have to just throw these in the trash."

 

"Where to now, boss?" Steph asked, looking around.

 

I pointed to a service tunnel, "That way."

 

We strode a few hundred metres down the tunnel and came to a ladder which brought us out of a utility hole and into the street. Once we were on the surface again, we shouldn't have much trouble getting back home.

 

***

 

Roy sharpened his arrows in the loft as Steph slipped out of her costume and hopped in the shower. He explained that Juliana was safely staying at Gotham General, and the authorities would take care of her once she'd recovered. I tore off the armour plates from the front of my suit and kicked it off, leaving it in a heap on the loft floor, raising a finger to silence Roy's inevitable sarcastic comment.

 

Generally at the end of a long day, crashing on to my bed was like a kind of therapy, a release of all the pent-up tension and a way to calm myself. But today was different; there was no calm to be found. My father had always been my ideal, a paragon of virtue, a godlike figure that represented everything right in the world - second only to my mother.

 

But, if I believed what the Talon said, and I did, my father did something unforgivable. John Grayson took a vulnerable child and allowed him to become a monster. His motives didn't matter, if he cared he'd have taken my mother and I and run away or sacrificed himself, anything but what he did.

 

I'd had a million imaginary conversations with my father growing up, all of them were lies, he wasn't a man, he was no better than the monster he created when he handed that kid over to the Talons. Tony Zucco may have pulled the trigger, but John Grayson loaded the gun.

 

It brought a pang to my stomach that there was a picture of him on my television stand. Both of them, John and Mary Grayson, and myself stood smiling for a newspaper article in the circus tent. I couldn't take it, storming into the lounge and heaving the picture from the stand. Looking at his smiling face made me sick, I was eight years old in that picture, it might have already happened by then – his disgusting plan.

 

With all of my rage behind it, I threw the picture frame at the front door and screamed as the glass shattered all over the rug.

 

My knees buckled, and I fell to the floor, unable to hold back the tears. My past was littered with torment, The Joker, Deathstroke, Jason, even Yin and Daggett, but none of it seemed impossible to deal with when I thought back to my mother and father. But that perfect memory was in pieces on the floor, and all I could do was mourn for it because it was never coming back.

 

I felt a hand softly touch my shoulder, I think she asked me if I was OK, but I felt as though I was trapped at the bottom of an inescapable pit. Years of pain were flooding out of me, and nothing around me seemed to matter all that much.

 

Steph knelt in front of me, her hair still wet, wearing some of my clothes. She tilted my head up by the chin and looked into my eyes, her mouth was moving, and I could hear her speaking, but I had no idea what she was saying.

 

She helped me to my feet, guided me by hand to the couch and sat me down, taking a seat next to me as I stared at the ground. Everyone I knew well enough had heard my stories of John and his greatness, but not Steph, I was going to tell her what I'd discovered, and the only John Grayson she'd ever know would be the monster.

 

"Dick, talk to me," I finally heard as the rush of thoughts in my head began to slow, "Should I get Roy, what's happened?"

 

I cleared my throat and wiped the tears from my eyes, then looked into hers, "The Talon; he knew who I was. And he knew things about me, and my family. This is probably going to sound insane, but, my father wasn't the man I thought he was and... I'm not sure what to do next..."


	20. Don't Stand So Close

My stubble was out of control. In fact, it was probably the closest I’d ever been to an actual beard. And I smelled, terrible. Barbara always said I was a wallower - she wasn’t wrong.

It had been a week since my run-in with the Talon. I’d filled everyone in on what I’d found out about them and about my father, Bruce giving me his usual ‘take some time off’ speech which for once I didn’t think was a bad idea.

Roy and Steph were taking turns to watch Melissa’s mother’s place. It didn’t sound like she’d been going to class and only left to go places with her mom. Melissa had not answered my calls and sent very few text messages, all of which were the written equivalent of small talk. I’d asked how she was in the morning and was still waiting for a response at noon.

It felt like every facet of my life was spiralling out of control. All that needed to happen now was for someone like Emily to become a supervillain, and my life would literally have completely turned upside down. In the same way that Melissa was avoiding my calls, I was avoiding Emily’s and sending her innocuous messages.

Unfortunately, she was much more determined than me; and had managed to convince me to let her take me out for a meal which was why I was forcing myself to tidy up and have a shower this afternoon.

Emily was the kind of person who would have probably found the perfect words to snap me out of this rut. But I couldn’t think of a way to spin ‘my father stole an innocent child and gave him to an evil cult which turned him into an undead monster’ into something I could ask Emily for her advice on.

I yawned loudly and stepped into the shower which for once was running at an appropriate temperature, much better than the one at Steph’s house anyway. As the soothing water washed over me, I tried to think of something a little more positive.

Steph was doing well, that was good, and we’d bonded on a personal level in spite of our weird underwater oxygen transfer which had been incredibly awkward. Roy was also not intolerable, and after my outburst, he seemed to be making an effort to be less messy though it was starting to feel like they were both a little sick of watching over Melissa.

Nate was back on his feet and hoping to get back to work too, and apparently, he was fit enough that his mom felt comfortable enough to go home. So there were at least a few things to feel good about.

Feeling somewhat refreshed I stepped from the shower and wrapped myself in a towel. Still dripping wet, I filled the sink, grabbed a razor and rubbed some foam on my cheeks. I’d hoped the shave would feel like a fresh start, anything to jolt some kind of change in my mood. It sounded stupid, pretty pathetic actually, but I just needed something to break me out of the state I was in, so far nothing was working.

Roy had tidied the living room, not evident by the lack of mess; there was still plenty of that, I knew because he’d left the TV on the extreme sports station. I’d mostly been watching the 24-hour news channel all week; I dried off as I flicked channels and caught the end of another report on Roland Daggett’s death. A tribute to the great man that he was. It was probably time to continue flipping channels.

There was a noise not unlike a dog pawing at the door to get in. It was Roy, for some reason he found it very difficult to pick the correct key. He tumbled in after a short battle with the lock and adjusted his hair to distract from the fact that he’d nearly fallen over.

“There’s something wrong with your lock,” Roy said, closing the door behind him aggressively.

“Because it doesn’t fit every one of the inexplicable number of keys on your keyring?” I sighed, “How was your watch?”

“Really, really boring. I ate an entire tray of doughnuts and watched Melissa’s mom doing her Pilates on DVD,” Roy explained with an exaggerated yawn.

“Did you see Melissa?” I asked.

“She was around, she keeps her bedroom curtains closed most of the time, so I see more of her shadow than her. They didn’t leave the house at all.”

“Steph turn up on time?”

“Yeah, she’s gonna finish her college work while it’s still light out,” I detected a hint of resentment in Roy’s voice. He didn’t say anything else, he instead going over to the fridge and hanging his head behind the door.

“Something you wanna say?” I questioned, standing up to look at him, tightening my towel to avoid any awkward accidents.

Roy sighed before revealing his head again, “I just think we’re wasting our time here, from what you told me, the Owl guy’s plan failed. If anything we should be keeping an eye on you, you’re the one they want to kill.”

“Maybe we are, I don’t know. I can take over if you don’t want to do it anymore?”

“Nah you’ve had a rough time, you need a break. Besides if they see the Red Hood hanging around the cops will flip a bitch,” Roy said.

“You are aware that your costume also has a red hood, they probably won’t know the difference. They haven’t seen you yet either.”

“Fair point.”

“I can always wear one of my other suits.”

“Also a fair point,” He said, cracking open a Red Bull, “Want one?”

“I’m good, thanks, I’m gonna go eat with Em in a little while so...”

“Good, I’m gonna go work on some stuff upstairs, holler if you need anything,” Roy gave an oddly patronising thumbs up and disappeared behind the bookcase.

***

Emily decided that we would be eating at the Chinese Restaurant, The Golden Coin, not far from the apartment. We were seated by the window with a fantastic view of the Museum of Antiquities, somewhere I hadn’t visited since high school. The table was a four-seater which bugged me as it felt like we were taking up too much space.

As it started to get darker, the lights outside the museum came on automatically, highlighting the beauty of the classic architecture. My name was drifting on the air like it was incredibly far away.

I admired the large pillars in a daze, thinking back to a robbery I'd stopped there with Bruce when I was Robin. The Penguin was trying to steal a crystal bird for his collection; it was the first time I'd ever come across one of his trick umbrellas. He managed to twirl it around and hypnotise me, but Bruce caught up with him and gave him a pummeling... Those were the days...

Clicking fingers in my face snapped me back to the present, “Dude, have you gone deaf or something?”

I turned and looked at Emily blankly, “What?”

“Nothing, I was just filling you in on everything you missed at college, it’s only your education - don’t worry about it,” She said sarcastically.

“Sorry, I’m just...” I began.

“You’re a mess, dude, I can tell,” She looked intensely at me, “Is it what happened with Melissa’s dad?”

“Partly, I guess it’s a bit of everything, there have been a lot of... Revelations lately.”

Emily raised her eyebrows curiously, “The ever cryptic Richard Grayson,” She sighed, looking down at her menu, “You know, whatever it is that’s bothering you, you can tell me.”

“I know, it’s just difficult to talk about,” I tried to explain. I paused for a moment and thought of a way to put it carefully into words, “Alright. What would you do, if you found out someone you loved, maybe even modelled yourself after, wasn’t who you thought they were?”

“Hmm,” Emily began, looking out of the window now, “I guess no one is who we think they are?”

“Right,” I said, trying not to roll my eyes at the cliché, “But what if your moral code was based around the idea of someone who turned out not to exist.”

“You’re really digging into the philosophical there, dude, thinking of switching your major?” She laughed, then realising from the look on my face that I wasn’t joking, she continued, “I guess... The idea that inspired you is still there; it’s just no longer attached to that person.”

I nodded, that made sense.

“Maybe you’re attributing what you believe to someone else when it’s really just something that deep down you’ve always believed in?”

“You know something?” I smiled.

“What?” Emily said, beaming back.

“You’re a bit of a genius,” I wasn’t about to magically feel better about everything, I knew that, but Emily had sparked the fuse to get me on my way.

“A bit? Pshh,” She said, laughing, “Let’s get some food, dude.”

“Yeah, enough whining, spring roll time,” I exclaimed, slamming a hand down jokingly on the table.

“Spring rolls are gross, man, it’s all about the shrimp toast.”

“That’s sacrilege; I take it back, you’re no genius, you’re a weirdo.”

"I'd like to think I'm a bit of both," Emily said with a wink, beckoning a waiter over with the politest wave I'd ever seen. She ordered a plate of shrimp toast for her and some spring rolls for me while we deliberated over main courses.

The chair next to me slid out unexpectedly, attached to it was a very muscular arm, "Sorry I'm late, guys," Nate said, beaming down at me, his bald head reflecting light into my eyes.

"I'm Nate, I believe we've met," He said sarcastically, reaching out to shake my hand.

"Very funny," I sighed as he sat down, turning to Emily, "If you'd told me he was coming I might not have bothered."

"How do you know that's why I didn't?" Emily winked.

"Seriously though bro, I saw the news about your girlfriend's dad, sorry to hear it," Nate said with genuine affection, patting me on the shoulder.

"Thanks, Nate, how's the recovery going?" I asked, quickly changing the subject.

"So-so, I finally convinced my mom to move out, so that's something. I'm not gonna be back on the street for a long time, but they're looking to get me an office position at the precinct," He explained, not sounding too happy at the prospect.

"So you'll be doing what exactly?"

"I'll be the guy behind the desk processing the inmates, not what I signed up for," Nate sighed, "But it's better than nothing, and I got a pretty decent payout for what happened."

"That's something, you covering the food then?" I laughed.

"You wish, Em's idea, Em pays," Nate said.

"Hey!" Emily snarled.

"He's right you know," I agreed, "That's the rule."

"You're idiots, and we're splitting the bill," Emily said with finality in her tone, "We're sharing shrimp toast by the way."

"Sounds good," Nate said, turning back to me, "Your place after this? I'll get some beers in."

I looked down thought for a minute, not sure if I was ready to host, but it did feel good to be with Nate and Emily again.

"It's cool if you don't want to," Nate said, tilting his head sympathetically.

I looked up and grinned, "Screw it, why not. We never did watch Marley and Me."

***

Crane was boring a hole in my head with his death stare as his dulcet tones drifted into one of my ears and out of the other without permeating any grey matter on the way. It felt like I hadn’t seen the professor for months, it seemed that he thought the same, his contempt was barely masked by his intense speechifying about god-knows-what. I must have hit peak boredom even to entertain the idea of going to class.

The empty seat next to me was an especially painful gut punch, something I hadn’t considered before deciding to go in.

Members of the class I’d never spoken to before were giving me funny looks, hopefully, sympathetic ones but I really couldn’t tell, they might even have been accusatory ones. Emily didn’t mention that people thought I was a murderer, so it was probably nothing, but it’s not really something you bring up in polite conversation.

Crane rounded out the class by giving us an assignment, one which I did not note down; I was beginning to figure I’d failed the semester anyway, I was just there to get out of the house more than anything.

The students began to disperse, “Mr Grayson, if you’d like to stay seated for a moment,” Crane said, of course he wanted to take the opportunity to berate me on my attendance, or lack thereof.

Seemingly for dramatic effect, Crane took off his glasses and breathed on the lenses, wiping them on his jacket, before placing them back on the end of his hooked nose.

The last student left, so Crane beckoned me to the front of the class with a wave of his hand. I shuffled down the stairs toward his office door and tried to look sincerely concerned about what he was going to say. The professor held the door open and welcomed me grumpily inside.

“Take a seat, Mr Grayson,” He said while doing the same.

The chair screeched uncomfortably in the silence as I pulled it out from under the desk and sat down.

Crane looked down at some papers and scanned the text as if I wasn’t there, turning the page over to a blank sheet and scribbling a note that I couldn’t make out. His desk was ornate and very large, almost presidential; it looked like something Bruce would own. Crane didn't keep it particularly tidy, post-it notes, books, stacks of paper and even a chess set which had been left mid-game were littered across it.

Enough time had passed that I thought it appropriate to let out a fake cough. Crane didn’t acknowledge it and continued to scribble notes.

Finally, he cleared his throat and said: “Mr Grayson, I have recently been made aware of your involvement with your fellow student, Miss Daggett. I have also been made aware that last week, on the night of her father’s murder, you were present for at least some portion of the evening.”

“That’s right, sir,” I said, not knowing whether I should really be speaking at all.

“The Dean believes that this is a valid excuse for your poor performance this year, in spite of the fact that Miss Daggett’s grades have been near perfect up to this point. I do not share the Dean’s belief. Were it up to me; you would have been ejected from the college months ago.”

“Good thing it isn’t up to you then, isn’t it?” I said, not hiding the vitriol in my voice, I’d had a lot of people to hate recently, and I’d forgotten just how much Crane got on my nerves.

“I’ve been instructed to give you these,” He said, pretending he hadn’t heard my jibe as he tried to control the pulsating vein on his forehead. The professor handed me the pile of papers he’d been looking over, “These are transcripts of every lecture you’ve missed with detailed annotations to make the content more digestible for your frankly limited mind.”

I snorted as I laughed at the ‘limited mind’ comment and made sure to wear the smuggest possible look as he continued to talk.

In the least convincing voice possible, Crane said, “I’d also like very much to offer you my deepest condolences for your loss. I hope that Nightwing is caught swiftly and brought to justice.”

“Thank you, sir, that’s very kind,” I said smugly, “Was there anything else?”

“No that’s everything, Mr Grayson,” He replied, gesturing toward the door, “Goodbye.”

I grabbed the papers and left with a smile on my face and a song in my heart, practically skipping up the stairs and out of the classroom.

Comprehension dawned slowly as the door swung closed behind me. I tucked the papers under my arms and slid my phone from my pocket, dialling as fast as I could.

“Hey, Barb, are you near the computer?” I said, talking fast.

“Sure, just cross-referencing some...” She began.

I cut her off and asked, “Could you do a search through every article relating to Roland Daggett’s murder for the keyword ‘Nightwing’?”

“Sure, just gimme a sec,” The clacking of keys followed and about half a minute of total silence, “Nothing at all, not a single mention.”

Just as I thought, “Thanks Barb, I’ll call you back!”

“Dick, wait what were you -“ I hung up and began to call another number.

“What up?” Steph said, “You need something?”

“Yeah, that day in the library, you were following Professor Crane around weren’t you?” I asked quietly, peering back into the classroom to make sure he wasn’t anywhere nearby.

“I was, why?”

“Why were you following him?”

“He sponsored my dad’s insanity plea, got him a cushy cell in Arkham Asylum, Crane’s a giant douche. I was trying to steal his office key if you must know,” Steph explained, sounding annoyed.

“Your dad is in Arkham? Why didn’t you say so?”

“Well I’d planned on it, but with everything you just found out I didn’t wanna like, make it a ‘who has the worst dad’ contest.”

“Your dad is the reason you put on the mask, shit, why didn’t you tell me?” I snapped, somewhat unfairly.

“Woah, woah asshole, it’s not my fault all you ever talk about is you,” Steph retorted, “Was there anything else? I gotta get some sleep before I go and watch over your girlfriend for a few hours.”

“No, there wasn’t anything else, and don’t bother with Melissa, tell Roy to go home too, I’ve got another lead. It’s a big one.”

“Should I come over?” She asked.

“Yeah, see you in an hour?”

“Cool,” And she hung up.

If I was right about this, it meant that literally every corner of my life was utterly insane, which frankly wasn’t much of a stretch.

There wasn’t a lot of time to think about it as the classroom door opened, startling me. I expected Crane to ignore me, but instead, stopped right in front of me and looked left and right.

“Mr Grayson, I believe you forgot this,” He said, holding out the pen he’d been scribbling with.

“What? That isn’t mine, sir,” I barely noticed the tube sticking out from under his sleeve before the puff of gas sprayed in my face and sent me flailing backwards.

The professor laughed as I tumbled into a heap on the ground, the pile of papers flying into the air and fluttering all over.


	21. Spider's Web

For once I was glad to see the look of sick satisfaction on Jonathan Crane’s face. The expression of glorious victory as he reached out to grab me by the scruff of the neck and drag me into his classroom was strangely amusing.

I held the vacant expression on my face as the doors closed behind us.

“I didn’t believe the Parliament at first when they told me who you were, but I must admit it explains a lot,” Crane said as he guided me down the stairs, assuming he’d just successfully dosed me with his fear toxin.

“Dick Grayson, slacker by day, hero by night,” He chuckled to himself, “You probably can’t understand a word I’m saying. Though it’s impressive how you’ve kept so calm, the last person I did this to... Well, you know, you were there.”

This wasn’t the Crane I knew; this man was full of humour, he relished in what he was doing. Chaos was his true calling, and it made him disgustingly happy.

“What I’d pay to see what you’re seeing right now, to experience your fears, to find out what makes someone like you tick! I get plenty of one on one time with criminals, but I’ve yet to have my way with a vigilante. But alas, the Parliament wants you dead, so dead you shall be.”

Crane stopped as we reached his office door and rounded to face me, looking very closely into my eyes. I stayed very still, staring blankly into space.

“Curious, I’ve never had results like this,” Crane said, turning to unlock the office door, “You never cease to amaze me, Mr Grayson.”

“You know Professor, I was just thinking the same thing,” I just about caught the horrified expression on Crane’s face as I hammered a fist into his crooked nose and shattered his glasses.

His body flat to the door, I kicked him hard in the stomach, sending him careering into his office, landing face down on his desk, sending the pieces of his chess set scattering all over the room.

I couldn’t give the worm a second to compose himself, so I grabbed him, slid him over the desk and threw him into his chair, punching him in the face again for good measure.

Stunned, he tried to spray another burst of the toxin at me, not that it would have done anything. I ripped the arm of Crane’s shirt and jacket, revealing the compact device he’d used to kill Clancy Wolfman and Roland Daggett... And god knows who else.

The professor let out a pathetic yelp as I tore it off and smashed it under my foot. The office had a view out on to the courtyard, so I shut the curtains with one hand on Crane’s throat to keep him from escaping, without his precious toxin he was next to useless in a fight.

Using the length of plastic tubing from Crane’s device, I tied his wrists to the arms of his chair and moved to the other side of the desk to find something to gag him with.

“They know who you are, they know everything, they’ll come after you. Killing me won’t solve anything,” Crane pleaded, his tone switching drastically. He almost sounded too pitiful; something wasn’t right. I heard light footsteps behind me in the classroom, and the distinct cocking of a gun, of course, Crane had on-site security - probably another one of the Talons.

My face didn’t betray to Crane that I’d heard a thing, I kept my eyes firmly fixed on him and placed my hand on the glass paperweight sitting on Crane’s post-it pile, waiting for the inevitable, “Don’t move!”

The words had barely passed the gunman’s lips as I spun on the spot and shattered the paperweight in the middle of his forehead. The man, who looked no older than a student, was knocked out instantly without getting off a shot. Good thing too, the last thing I wanted was a shooting on the college campus.

“Member of your after-school club?” I asked, darting around the desk and pinning Crane back to the chair by his throat.

“You could say that,” The professor croaked through his tightening windpipe, “The Court aren’t the only ones with Talons.”

"You should call yours claws, to avoid the lawsuit," I joked, squeezing him more tightly.

I let him go after freaking him out for another second. His own 'Talons', that probably meant he had more goons on campus, which didn’t leave me much time to extract him. I sent messages to Barbara and Steph to get to the university and bring their costumes and mine ASAP. A middle of the day extraction was going to be tricky but not impossible.

First I had to drag the unconscious goon inside and bar the office door, which was easy enough to do with Crane’s large desk.

“How are you going to explain this if anyone catches you?” Crane asked, sounding more confident.

“I’ll say you gave me a bad grade and I snapped,” I replied, “Could you shut up a minute I’m trying to think.”

“No, I don’t think I will, Mr Grayson. You are finished, and you know it,” Crane cackled.

“I don’t know anything, as you’ve so often reminded me in class, sir,” I said with a patronising smirk.

Crane sneered and looked down to the floor to see if his goon was stirring. I checked him myself, mainly to see if he was mouldy like one of the Talons, which he wasn’t. For all intents and purposes, he was a normal human. A normal human with a student’s lanyard.

The guy’s name was Thomas Holmes, the ID in his wallet told the same story. It took me a minute to realise, but I recognised him, he’d been at the frat party I attended with Nate and Emily all those months ago - Nate introduced me to him. Either this was an elaborate cover, or Scarecrow was recruiting students on campus. I had a strong feeling that it was the latter.

I picked up Tom’s gun and started to dismantle it, “Been recruiting from the local frats?” I asked Crane.

Crane smiled, “Their minds are surprisingly malleable, they make useful pawns for my research.”

"Pawns huh, you do love your chess don't you," I said, gesturing to the pieces scattered about the floor.

Crane smiled widely, "Do you play?"

"I do, but I prefer chequers, much less complicated."

"I shouldn't have expected any less," He sneered.

“I take it since you're recruiting kids, the Court isn't letting you have at their Talons then? I thought they’d give you anything you wanted; they’re big fans of your product.”

“I don’t rely on them for everything; it’s nice to have some independence. And what they don’t know can’t hurt them,” Crane laughed.

“Hmm,” I began, “You seen to be contradicting yourself a little, I thought the Court knew everything?”

“I was being hyperbolic,” Crane said sharply.

Things started to fall into place in my head; Crane wasn't just serving the Court, something else was going on here. The Court didn't like chaos, the Talons' whole purpose was to keep order, the antithesis of the Scarecrow's brand of evil.

"Daggett wanted to be mayor, correct?" I questioned, stroking my chin thoughtfully and sitting on the desk - staring at Crane.

"Correct," Crane smiled, intrigued by my sudden interest. I was starting to realise how much he liked to brag; I could use it to my advantage.

"So, he got you in with the Owls, to use their distribution network for the pharmaceuticals you were developing together."

Crane's smile widened further, "Very good."

"I have my moments," I nodded, then continued, "The Court was under the impression that you'd be pushing Vertigo, and creating a drug epidemic to sway the people's faith in Mayor Chesterfield which is what Daggett thought too. But the stuff I took from Clancy Wolfman was way more than just Vertigo; you were planning to bring the city to its knees with this stuff."

"Bravo, bravo, I'd clap my hands if they weren't tied," Crane said, licking his lips, "Which is why I had to take the greasy biker out of the equation when he spoke to you."

"Once the Court found out what the drugs could do, they had you making it for them, and you complied so they wouldn't look too closely at your plans. But they found out, and you put on your little sissy act and blamed the whole thing on Daggett, so they got you to kill him to prove your loyalty..." I said, realising that I was missing something, "But why would you want to have the city gripped with fear? You're a lover of chaos, sure, but you're too methodical just to be an anarchist."

"Why indeed, I guess we'll never know," Crane sighed with a comedic shrug, "You know, Mr Grayson, if you'd applied some of this deductive reasoning in my classes, you could have been quite the student."

"Maybe your replacement will be a little nicer, and inspire it out of me."

Someone knocked at the office door, "You in there?" It was Steph.

"Yeah hang on a sec," I said, sliding the desk out of the way and letting her inside, she was in full costume and holding out a bag which I took, "How'd you get in here?"

"Got changed in the bushes and used the roof, why the hell have you got this creep tied up?" Steph asked, looking Crane up and down.

I threw my jacket over Crane's head so he wouldn't watch me getting changed, and started to undress, "He's been involved from the start, he's the Scarecrow."

"No fricking way, I knew he was a douche but holy hell!" She exclaimed, "Got anything useful out of him?"

I pulled the hood up and put on the mask before removing the jacket from Crane's head, "I was actually in the middle of deconstructing the Professor's plan when you arrived actually, wasn't I, sir?"

"Yes, he really is outstanding you know," Crane said sarcastically, "Very good at wasting time, which was exactly what I needed."

"Was?" Steph said before I could.

Crane smiled his sickening smile once more mumbling, "Indeed," as he threw his body weight to the right, toppling the chair and hitting the floor with an incredible thud.

"Get down!" I shouted, pulling Spoiler down to the ground as a hail of gunfire shattered the windows and shredded through the curtains. Pockets of light grew wider and wider as the curtains were torn to pieces by the unending barrage of bullets.

A shooting on campus, precisely what I didn't want - I had to shut this down fast.

A ricochet pinged off my shoulder armour, "Stay low!" I shouted to Steph who was under my arm, "I gotta grab Tom," Realising that the bullets were bouncing all over and Tom wasn't wearing any body armour.

"The goon? Are you crazy? Don't you die for him!" Spoiler screeched.

When I got to Tom, a pool of red had already spread across his chest; he was dead. Almost as soon as I'd turned back, the bullets stopped, and four masked gunmen were pulling Crane through the window and fleeing the scene.

There was no time to lose; we had to get after them. Without having to prompt her, Steph was already on her feet and in pursuit by the time I'd jumped through the window and into the courtyard. Students were running and screaming in all directions, and someone had pulled the fire alarm.

The gunmen turned back to face us as Crane vanished into the frenzied crowd.

"Get after him, I'll take these idiots," I shouted as I readied my escrima sticks. Steph fired her grapple gun at the building on our left and zipped out of sight, bullets trailing close behind her. I sped right at them and hurled a smoke pellet at my feet.

They fired aimlessly into the smoke as I laid flat on the ground, waiting until they needed to reload before I struck. The replacement cartridge hadn't left the first gunman's belt before I roundhouse kicked the SMG straight from his hands and jammed my escrima stick into his throat and tazed him unconscious.

The second gunman hit the ground with a simple sweep of the leg and suffered the force of two taser blasts to the chest.

A campus security officer appeared and wasted no time shooting down gunman three, but instead of going for number four, he aimed his next shots at me, allowing the fourth gunman to escape into the building. I had to get rid of this goddamned red hood.

I rolled carefully to avoid accidentally drawing the security officer's fire into the crowd. Instead of knocking him out, I politely grabbed his gun and ejected the clip.

"I'm here to help, I swear," I explained, dropping his gun on the ground, "I'm going after that other gunman, I'd appreciate it if didn't shoot me in the back."

Whether it was what I said, or just the fact that he couldn't get his gun ready in time, the Security Guard didn't fire another shot as I burst through the doors and into the building. Unfortunately, the gunman was waiting for me, leaping out from a classroom door and opening fire. With a little bit of luck and an enormous dive, I got to one side without being shot.

For my next trick, I tossed three Batarangs roughly in the guy's direction, confusing him enough to dive down the corridor and take cover behind a water cooler which was immediately shot to pieces. It didn't matter though, because as soon as he stopped to reload, he'd be finished. At least I thought so...

The shooting stopped, and there was a huge thud. As I looked out to examine what was going on, I was confused to see that the gunman had disappeared. Assuming he'd taken cover in the nearest classroom, I proceeded toward it with caution.

Taken aback, as I opened the door, I saw the gunman in a heap on the floor, pinned to the ground by Tyreese, one of the guys from my class. He'd pulled off the assassin's balaclava and was looking at me in total confusion.

"Bro, what the hell is going on, did you do this?" He asked, sweating with panic.

"No," I told him, "I'm trying to stop these guys."

"But... They're students, this guy's name is Jamie Leek, he's a buddy of mine," Tyreese explained, "He's not answering me, it's like he's hypnotised!"

"Here," I threw Tyreese a pair of zip ties and picked up Jamie's SMG, tearing it to pieces, "Tie his hands and feet, and hold him til the cops get here, I know who did this and I'm gonna get him."

***

I met Spoiler on the roof of the main admin building. The GCPD had swarmed the campus, and we'd lost all sight of Crane. Having exchanged what information we had, the two of us ran to the edge where Barbara had told me to be. Sure enough, she'd parked the Batmobile at the foot of the building with the roof open.

In turn, Steph and I grappled the edge of a nearby flagpole and dropped into the back of the tank-like behemoth.

Batgirl turned in her seat and held out her hand and greeted Steph, "Nice to finally meet you, Spoiler," before turning to me and saying, "What the hell did you do this time?"

"You aren't going to believe this, but my professor is the Scarecrow," I explained, pulling a face that's intent was to say 'please believe me'.

"Jonathan Crane, the criminal psychologist from Arkham?" Barbara frowned.

"That's the one," I said, sighing with exhaustion. I wasn't physically tired, but my brain had seriously had enough.

"Makes sense, he probably orchestrated the breakout on behalf of the Court of Owls," She said rationally.

"Yes to the first part," I said, "But I don't think he's beholden to the Owls. I was interrogating him before those goons with guns showed up, he's been recruiting students and trying to spread his fear toxin through the city. I couldn't figure him out at first, but I think he's going to try and take down the Court and seize their power for himself."

"So we're stuck in the middle of a supervillain civil war, great..." Barbara sighed.

"Not yet," I told her, "Far as I can tell, they don't know Crane is going to turn on them just yet."

"That gives us a little time to plan. We'll go back to the cave once I've got confirmation from the GCPD that the situation here is under control," Barbara said.

I explained that the gunmen were brainwashed students, and filled in any gaps I could for Barb who was basically interrogating me with Steph butting in periodically to reaffirm things I was sure she already knew. I'd just finished explaining everything I'd gotten from Crane when the police radio blurted out, "All units, we have the suspects in custody. Perform final sweeps. Over."

We sat for a few more minutes listening in to the radio conversations; the police confirmed that there had only been one casualty, Tom, and that there were only minor injuries to a few other students.

With the knowledge that the police were handling the situation and that we were no longer needed, we sped off to the cave.

"Dick, would you do me a favour?" Barb said, turning her head slightly but keeping her eyes fixed on the road.

"Sure?" I replied.

"Throw out that costume, they're going to blame this whole thing on the Red Hood, and I'm sick of hearing about him."

"As soon as we get to the cave, I'm burning the damned thing."

***

Steph's eyes were wide, and her jaw had dropped in awe of the sight before her. It wasn't something I thought too much about having grown up around it, but the Batcave really was something spectacular to behold. She'd stepped out of the Batmobile before me and was rooted to the spot, I gave her an encouraging nudge in the back, and we began to stroll forward.

"I knew you guys were kitted out," Steph whispered, "But this is crazy!"

"Come on; we've got a job to do here," I replied, giving her another nudge, "Follow Batgirl."

Steph whacked my hand away, "Is that a plane?"

"Yeah," I sighed.

"How come you don't have one?"

"Because my loft has limited space, might be a little suspect if the roof of the apartment block had a jet parked on top of it..."

"But you can fly it?" She continued.

"Not well," I said, recalling an unfortunate incident where I ended up having to be rescued from the sea after losing control, "Am I gonna have to push you all the way?"

"You should at least get a car."

"And put it where?"

Steph shrugged and started moving a little quicker, "Do I get a car?"

I didn't answer.

Barbara gestured Steph and I forward toward the control centre of the cave, which housed the Batcomputer and various other technologies, and disappeared into the suit vault to change out of her gear.

Bruce lurched over the Batcomputer in full costume, staring down at papers he had spread over the large keyboard. Steph's manner seemed to completely change on seeing him, her walk became much more formal, and her mouth looked like it was sewn shut.

I pulled up a chair for Steph and myself and sat down facing the Batcomputer while Bruce finished reading whatever he was reading.

"Uhm, what are you reading?" I asked, tilting my head to try and see what he was looking at.

"It's a map of the Gotham Sewage System," Bruce explained.

Confused, I said, "Can't you see one of those online?"

"This one is from last year," He said, holding up one of the sheets, but not turning around, "This is from 1962," He said, holding up the other.

"Planning a historical trip?"

Ignoring the joke, Bruce explained, "The Talons seem to be using the sewers to move around, I'm looking for discrepancies in the maps."

"You think they're hiding down there?"

"It's a possibility," Bruce replied.

"So we are planning a trip," I sighed. Steph visibly shuddered at the thought of going into the sewers again.

Finally turning around, Bruce began, "Not necessarily. This Talon, the one that claims to have a connection with you, I think we may be able to use that to our advantage."

The idea of facing him again made my stomach tighten, he didn't scare me, but what he represented was something I wasn't sure I was ready to face up to.

"You want to draw him out?" Steph asked, surprising me.

Bruce turned to look at her, "Yes. If we can track him back to his hideout, and gain a better understanding of the organisation, we're one step closer to taking them down."

"There's another complication, The Scarecrow is aiming to take over the court," I explained.

"Yes, Jonathan Crane, I know," Batman said, of course, he already knew, "I'm going to visit the Commissioner tonight and gather intel on today's incident."

Barbara appeared, now wearing a grey tracksuit, "The news is treating it as a failed act of domestic terrorism. No mention of the Red Hood as yet, but these are just initial reports. Can you get rid of that suit now?"

"Yes, boss, right away," I said, standing up.

My earpiece began ringing; the name 'Melissa' appeared on my heads up display. Hopefully, she was calling with good news, but considering the last time I'd seen her, I doubted it.

"Hey," I greeted softly, making my way toward the suit vault.

Melissa didn't speak, but someone else did. The Talon, Richard, spoke, "Hello, Nightwing, I hear you survived our encounter."

"You," I growled, turning back around to look at Batman and the group, "What have you done? Where's Melissa?"

"She's perfectly safe," Richard said, "I've taken her home, and I'd like you to come and collect her. You have one hour before she meets the same fate as her father."

"Your problem is with me, leave her out of this!"

"Good try. You have an hour. If you bring anyone with you, I promise, she will die." The line went dead.

"Dick, what's wrong?" Barbara asked, approaching me.

"The Talon, he's taken Melissa."

"Oh my god," She gasped, "I'll gear up, we'll get her back, Dick."

"No, I have to go alone, if he sees anyone else, he's going to kill her," I said, and stormed toward my Wingcycle.

"One of us should go with you, at least," Barbara pleaded, giving chase.

I stopped and turned back to face her, "No, Barbara, I can't risk it."

"It's a trap; you know that," Bruce said, striding towards me, "Do what you think is right, but don't go in there without a plan."

Barbara looked at Bruce with astonishment, "Bruce, we can't just let him..."

"Extract Melissa's mother, please," I said, "When I get her out of this, we're going to have to get them out of the city, it isn't safe for them here anymore."

"Metropolis," Batman said with a nod.

I nodded in agreement and mounted the Wingcycle, putting on a fake smile for Barbara which wouldn't have fooled her for a second, "I'll be back before you know it."

 


	22. Cupid

Batman was right; it was a trap. I tore through the streets on my Wingcycle, comfortable in the knowledge that I was probably about to be ambushed by twenty Talons when I reached the Daggett penthouse. But I’d be damned if I was going to let the monster my father created harm a hair on Melissa’s head while I was still breathing. John Grayson had taken enough from me; he wasn’t going to take her too.

Headlights were blurs as I weaved in and out of traffic like a bolt of lightning, barely catching the shouts and horn honking of angry drivers. Images of Melissa flashed in front of me; our last real conversation had been awkward and strange, her acting suspicious of me because of what the police had said to her. Had Richard told her my secret? Would I really be able to get through this situation with my identity intact even if he hadn’t?

Maybe if I hadn’t worn the Red Hood suit, I could have come up with something, but I left the cave blind, without a plan. Devising a sound one en route was proving near impossible.

Furiously I roared around a corner, narrowly avoiding an oncoming truck which had to slam hard on its brakes. I’d disconnected my earpiece and sent encrypted messages to all my allies but one, reaffirming that they should not follow me under any circumstance, I couldn’t afford to be talked out of this.

The penthouse was visible at the end of a long stretch of road, it was close now, but time seemed to be slowing down the nearer we got, and my frustration was growing. Bruce always told me not to fight angry, but I felt like I could take twenty Talons by myself if it came down to it.

I zoomed straight towards the alley I’d hidden my costume in on my last visit to the penthouse, crossing the street and screeching to a halt between two dumpsters. The Wingcycle locked down at the push of a button, no one was going to be able to steal it in that state - and a curious looking man peering down the alley may have been about to try.

I scrambled up the fire escape and zipped around the corner to the balcony where Roland Daggett had fallen to his death. The whole area was still cordoned off with crime scene tape, the bullet holes where Melissa has narrowly missed shooting me were all highlighted and marked. The door wasn’t locked.

There was an eerie sense of foreboding as I ducked under the yellow tape and proceeded into the darkness with my escrima sticks in hand. I could have scanned the area more thoroughly, but I wasn’t giving it much thought.

No smell of death was present, and there wasn’t a Talon welcoming party, just two figures in the centre of the room concealed in shadow. One of them was taller, a man, standing behind the other with a blade to her throat. In his other hand was a small remote control which he held up and clicked.

The sconces on the walls lit up dimly, and the Talon discarded the remote. Melissa’s eye was bruised, her lip was bleeding, and her makeup was smeared across her face with a mix of tears and blood.

My own blood was boiling as I marched toward them, clenching my fists.

“That’s far enough,” Richard said, raising his free hand, “And drop the sticks.”

I complied, placing the escrima sticks neatly on the floor, “This is a little desperate, don’t you think?”

“You’re not in a position to taunt, Red Hood, kick your weapons over here,” He demanded, he was clearly angry, best not to resist. Why was he calling me that?

The escrima sticks rolled to his feet which still didn’t seem to satisfy him, as he pulled the knife in closer to Melissa’s neck. She let out a frightened whimper and closed her eyes tightly.

“Now,” Richard continued, “On your knees.”

“You brought me here just to execute me?” I said, raising my hands and crouching down gently to my knees.

“Not exactly,” He said, slightly releasing his grip on Melissa and pulling out a hefty revolver from behind his back. I looked on curiously. Guns didn't seem to be his thing; I guess he was sick of playing around.

Or not... “This man killed your father,” Richard said in a low voice, right into Melissa’s ear, before taking the knife away from her throat. He placed the revolver gently into her hand, “This is your opportunity to take revenge.”

Hands shaking, she raised the gun and pointed it straight at my head.

"It's easy," Richard said with a grimace, "All you have to do is squeeze the trigger."

This was the second time she'd pointed a gun at me, the first time her mind was clouded with grief, and she didn't hesitate. This time she seemed to be too afraid or at least giving it some thought.

“Melissa...” I said softly, slowly moving my hand down to the brim of the hood. I couldn't see an alternative here, it could go either way, she certainly had it in her to pull the trigger, but that was when I wasn't in such a vulnerable position and she'd just seen me murdering her father, or so she thought.

“Why did you do it?” Melissa sobbed, gun rattling in her hands as she shook, “What did my father ever do to you?”

“Nothing, Melissa, because I didn’t -“

“I saw you!” She snapped, her voice breaking, “You dropped him into the street, he was begging you to stop!”

“That’s not what happened, please, let me explain...”

“Why should I? You... You deserve this, you deserve to die,” She cried, not sounding like she really believed what she was saying.

“You’re not a killer, Melissa,” I pleaded, grasping the hood, Richard noticed, but it didn't bother him.

“How do you know? You know nothing about me!”

“Yes,” I affirmed, pulling down the hood and taking off the mask, “I do.”

Melissa’s hand shook uncontrollably, gun still aimed at my head, as she brought her other hand to her mouth. Fresh tears flooded from her eyes, seeing my face had broken her.

“I swear to you, I did not kill your father,” I explained, raising my hands again, “Please, put down the gun.”

“Grayson, oh god, Grayson you’re... You’re... They thought you might have been involved, but...”

“Don't let his betrayal go unpunished, avenge your father!” Richard roared maniacally, “He used you! This was always about your father!”

“Melissa, think about this, why would I have come here tonight if this was all about your father?” I said, looking her dead in the eyes.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Richard cackled, “I knew your identity, and you thought I was going to tell her! We’re loose ends that he came to tie up!”

“Don’t listen to him!” I shouted, “He wants you to kill me because he knows it will truly destroy me. He knows that I love you.”

“How could you love me?” Melissa cried, “Your whole life is a lie!”

“I do. And you’re right; it is, it has to be. I have to lie to keep the people I care about safe. The Red Hood doesn’t exist, the media made him up because of the costume, I’m Nightwing, and before that I was Robin,” I said, frantically trying to find the right words.

“He’s insane!” Richard laughed, “Just shoot him!”

“I’m not the one who beat you and brought you here, Melissa, put the gun down and I swear to you I’ll explain everything - no more secrets,” I promised.

“It’s... Too late for that,” She said in a whisper.

Richard laughed victoriously took off his mask, revealing his rotting face and manic yellow eyes. Like before, he genuinely thought that he’d won. And like before, he was wrong.

BANG! Melissa spun fast and pulled the trigger, sending a high velocity round through Richard’s leg.

“Bitch!” The Talon shrieked, striking out and knocking her to the ground before I could get to him - the gun careered across the floor and into the corner of the room.

His reflexes were disturbingly swift; his hand caught my fist before it made contact with his deathly visage. My left hook proved too fast even for him, striking at cheekbone, wrenching a hole in his decaying flesh.

Apparently feeling no pain, the feathered assassin planted his boot square in my chest, knocking me back into a somersault. Landing gracefully there was no time to compose myself as the Talon made to charge for me, knives in hand.

While this was happening, Melissa dragged herself along the floor, the revolver in her sights.

“You owe me a life!” Richard howled, aiming frantic slashes at my neck and chest. One caught my armour, but the rest were unable to make contact.

I grabbed his wrist, no longer trying to pacify him safely, twisting it until I felt a snap and heard his blade clatter on the floor.

Again there were no signs of pain as he aimed a killing blow at my chest.

“I am not my father,” I insisted, catching the blade with my flat palms before it was able to penetrate my armour, “I’m sorry for what he did, it sickens me, but this ends here.”

“For once, we agree,” He threw his body weight at me, and we tumbled to the ground in a heap. I was pinned as he pulled the remaining blade above his head and plunged it down towards my heart.

A knee in the back sent him veering off course and the blade sunk into my shoulder armour, giving me a much-needed opportunity to strike, sending both fists into the sides of his head. Arching backwards, he was met with another fist to the throat. Not allowing the Talon a second’s thinking time, I dragged him off me and sprung to my feet.

Richard staggered as he tried to pull himself on to his hands and knees, I obliged his efforts with a kick to the stomach. An average man would have been wholly dazed or knocked unconscious by this point, but this was no ordinary man, and something had changed since our last encounter - he was even more dangerous than before.

“It’s over,” I yelled, holding my fighting stance, “Don’t get up.”

“This won’t be over until I’m standing over your corpse,” Richard insisted, spitting blood, “You can’t hurt me.”

Driven by his warped determination, Richard rose to his feet and cracked his neck back into place. He was being literal when he said that I couldn’t hurt him, I couldn’t inflict any pain on him whatsoever, I was going to have to knock him clean out or tie him up, there wouldn't be a surrender here.

From behind me, I heard Melissa’s voice call out, “Both of you, put your hands up,” she was pointing the gun at us again.

Richard raised his hands mockingly, stretching his pungent flesh with a menacing grin. I raised my hands too, not taking my eyes off Richard.

“Move, now,” Melissa commanded, waving the gun toward the balcony, “Whatever this is, I won’t be a part of it, not anymore.”

The Talon shuffled slowly to the balcony door, “Do you think you have it in you to execute us, Melissa?”

“Move!” She cried, all her efforts focused on holding herself together.

Richard grinned as he gripped the door handle tightly and slowly pulled open the door. The handle was parted from the doorframe sharply, I’d dodged flying objects in my time, but it happened so quickly that the next thing I knew, my nose was bleeding and I was on the ground.

Shots fired, and Melissa let out a scream as I used a nearby chair to steady myself.

“I was making this far too complicated,” Richard said, “I should have known a hero like you would have something more valuable than his own life.”

Stealthily, I slid my earpiece back in and turned to look at Richard. He was holding Melissa once again with a knife to her throat, backing out of the door, snapping the yellow crime scene tape, and on to the balcony.

He dropped the revolver on the floor in the doorway, that wasn’t an accident. It glinted invitingly in the light, offering an easy end to the situation one way or another - Richard knew that perfectly.

Whatever happened now, he’d won.

Gently I edged in Richard’s direction until we were face to face and I was standing directly over the revolver. Melissa squirmed in his grip, looking fiercely into my eyes. I attempted to reassure her with a subtle look.

“You know now, that the Court has taken away my pain,” Richard said.

“Your physical pain, maybe,” I said calmly, I had to portray confidence, I didn’t want Melissa to feel afraid, "That other pain, the one that drives you, I'm not sure anything could take that away."

“Stop trying to play mind games, Dick, you know full well that you can’t hope to save Melissa without killing me,” He smiled.

I nodded, and to his surprise, picked up the gun. His astonishment was replaced by delight as I rolled the weapon over in my hands. It was simple really, pull the trigger, the end. And yet, I’d taken an oath. It was our promise, Bruce’s and mine, to never become like them. Killing was the one line we were never to cross, the gaping chasm that separated us from those we stood against.

“What is it, Dick? Afraid I can move faster than your bullet?” Richard taunted, “Or is it those pesky rules of yours?”

“There’s nothing I can say is there?” I began, feeling defeated, not able to see a way out, “I don’t get out of this without losing something.”

“I’m glad you understand.”

“I hate him too, you know,” I said, looking directly into Richard’s golden eyes, provoking a curious expression on his face, “If I’d known before now, I’d have done anything to save you from what you’ve become.”

“To clear your conscience, maybe,” Richard replied.

I searched his eyes for a flicker of humanity, hoping I wouldn’t see it, so that I could justify taking his life. But it was there; his motivations were so human, he was a broken boy, given hope when he had never had any - for it to be torn away in the most brutal way imaginable. Betrayed and manipulated, and he'd never not blame me for that.

Melissa stirred, and the Talon pulled her in more tightly, his head slightly hidden behind hers.

“Maybe,” I said, tapping the revolver against my chest, pointing to my heart, “Isn’t that a good enough reason?”

“A genuine desire to save my life would be better,” Richard laughed.

My voice broke slightly, “You don’t know how much I wish I could. You have no idea.”

“There’s no saving me, and there’s no saving you,” Richard snapped, “What’s done is done, make your choice, brother.”

I raised the gun slightly, Richard's face responding with pleasure, Melissa's with terror.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” I said as I let the revolver slip through my fingers and fall to the floor.

Melissa squeezed her eyes closed and gritted her teeth, bracing herself bravely for her fate. Elation flashed briefly across Richard’s face at the sound of an almost inaudible thud. The shining gold of his eyes darkened as his pupils consumed them.

Melissa fell to her knees in a flood of tears as Richard’s hand fell limp and his blade clattered to the ground.

For a moment he seemed like he’d say something, but the moment passed, and he lurched forward and crashed to the ground like a slab of stone. A single red arrow glinted in the light, protruding from his back, piercing his heart.

I nodded solemnly to Roy who was perched on the building opposite. He saluted before disappearing out of sight.

Delicately I lowered myself to the floor, keeping my distance from Melissa who continued to sob into her hands.

“Melissa,” I said softly.

“Don’t tell me you’re sorry,” She replied coldly, “You brought this madness into my life, Grayson, you’ve ruined everything.”

“I didn’t kill your father, Melissa,” I pleaded, hoping beyond hope that she'd understand, that somehow there was a way out of this for us.

“Can you honestly tell me, that if you weren’t there, he would have still died?” She sobbed.

“I... No, I can’t.”

“Whatever we had, whether you meant it when you told me you loved me - I don’t care, it’s over,” Melissa began, composing herself and using the handrail to rise to her feet, “I never want to see you again, Grayson.”

“I understand. But there’s something you need to understand now too,” I explained sternly, standing to face her, she might have hated me more than anything in that moment, but I had to keep her safe, “You’re a target now, and there are more men just like him that might come after you.”

“Because of you...” Melissa growled coldly.

“Because of me, and because of the things your father did. He wasn’t some innocent in all of this, and deep down I think you know that. But it doesn’t matter, the reason I’m telling you this, is that you and your mother are going to have to leave Gotham.”

“If you’re worried about your secret...” She began.

I interrupted, “All I care about right now is keeping you safe.”

“Don’t,” Melissa said, raising a hand. A moment of silence passed between us that felt twice its length before she finally said, “Where do you want us to go?”

“Metropolis. I can’t guarantee anything, but I have friends there that can keep you much safer than I can,” I gestured to Richard’s body, “I just hope their influence doesn’t reach that far.”

Nothing more was said. Melissa nodded, still holding herself together, and left the balcony, disappearing through the door to the bedrooms.

After a few minutes of staring over the balcony and examining the windows across the street for anything suspicious, I tuned myself into the police radio system. Thankfully no gunshots or odd occurrences had been reported at the penthouse, which allowed me to take a minute.

Roy was uncharacteristically silent as he pulled himself over the handrail and stood next to me, taking only a brief glance at Richard’s body.

As much as he irritated me on a daily basis, he’d proven himself tonight, and I owed him more than he’d ever realise. And yet, a part of me resented him because it came so easy, the killing. Roy didn’t share in my code, he and Oliver Queen weren’t above taking lives in their pursuit of justice.

Tonight though, however I tried to justify it, I’d been the one to cross the line - Roy only did precisely as I’d told him to. I killed Richard, and I hated myself for it, and the part that really scared me - if I had to do it all over again to save Melissa’s life, I would.

We stood side by side and watched the scarce traffic in motion. No one down there was aware of what had just taken place above their heads.

I envied them.

***

Roy patted me on the shoulder sympathetically, it wasn’t anything to him, but he understood the weight of what I’d asked him to do. He strode past me and over to Richard’s body, leaning down to pull out the arrow in his back.

“No,” I said, stopping him with a hand, “It’s OK, I’ll deal with it.”

“You sure?” Roy asked.

“I’m sure,” I affirmed, standing up straight. I moved over to Richard and gently pulled the arrow out of his back, handing it to Roy.

Respectfully as I could, I turned the body over and closed the lifeless golden eyes. Richard was heavier than he looked, lifting him up seemed much more difficult than I thought it would be. I carried his lifeless body indoors and placed him on a couch at the side of the room.

Melissa emerged from the corridor and watched me place the body down. She immediately turned around and left the room.

“Want me to talk to her?” Roy asked with laughable sincerity.

“No offence, but that’s a horrible suggestion,” I replied, thoughtlessly.

Clearly offended, Roy sighed, “Just trying to be helpful, but whatever...”

“Sorry, I appreciate the gesture,” I backtracked, smiling, “You’ve done more than enough for me today.”

“Thanks, no need to make it weird,” Roy laughed, “What do we do now anyway?”

“Bruce and Barbara are on their way, we’re gonna clean things up here and get Melissa and her mom out of the city.”

“Right away?”

“It’s what we should have done in the first place; I was an idiot to think we could keep her safe here... This is their city after all,” I conceded.

“This dude was working alone though, right?”

“It was personal to him, but the Court allowed him to do this, so it’s obviously in their interest for her and me to be dead,” I explained, "Plus, there's Crane, he knows who I am now, and he knows that Melissa and I were dating."

Roy nodded his head and sat down on a dining chair, “What are we gonna do about the apartment? They know who you are, hell, they probably know who I am too. We gotta find somewhere to hide.”

“Hide?” I said, taken aback.

“Well, yeah, until we can come up with a plan or something,” Roy explained.

“Hide? Come up with a plan? Who am I talking to right now?”

“What? Am I wrong?”

“No, it’s just, you’re Roy,” I laughed.

He rolled his eyes, “Blah blah, I’m irresponsible, blah blah. I can be serious you know?”

“I didn’t know, but I do now,” I chuckled, “But no hiding, we have to come up with a plan right away and take these guys down. Crane isn’t going to just lie down after what happened; we have to find him.”

“Yeah, I’m not totally up on all that, he’s your teacher right? And he’s this Scarecrow guy?”

“Yes, my life is about a thousand percent more insane than it was two weeks ago, something I never thought I’d say,” I explained, pulling up a chair of my own and sitting down.

Roy laughed and slapped his knees, “I gotta say, I’ve seen some shit, but this is a whole other level of messed up.”

Melissa emerged again, this time with a large blanket which she draped over Richard’s body, covering him from head to toe. I opened my mouth to speak, but before I could, she was gone again.

“Give her some time,” Roy said reassuringly, “She’ll come round.”

“I wish, Roy, but I don’t think she will.”

“Take it from a guy that has pissed off a lot of women,” He went on, “There isn’t a lot that’s unforgivable.”

“Any of them ever blame you for their father’s deaths?”

“No, but I did accidentally shoot one of them in the leg with an arrow?” He explained as if it was a regular occurrence.

“Really, how’d that go?”

“The trip to the Emergency Room was a little awkward I admit, but as soon as she could walk again we were back on for like a whole week,” He said proudly.

“A whole week? Wow, impressive. And how long did this relationship last in total?” I asked.

“Four weeks including recovery time, my longest relationship of that year in fact.”

A long shadow abruptly enveloped the room; my next comment didn't even have time to leave my mouth. Batman stood menacingly in the open balcony doorway. His eyes caught the body under the blanket right away, then went straight to Roy.

“H-hey,” Roy said, giving an awkward wave.

Batman strode across the room, ignoring the greeting and standing in front of me. His eyes cut through me like a hot knife through butter; he knew exactly what I’d done.

Batgirl followed him in but stood back as I was examined.

“Where is she?” The towering menace asked.

“In the bedroom,” I said pointing, “It’s through there.”

Barbara moved awkwardly to the door, “I’ll go and get her ready. I sent Spoiler ahead to watch the mother’s house until I get there.”

“You’re taking them?” I asked nervously, it was the least of my problems, but the girlfriend and the ex going on a road trip still sounded like a horrible idea.

Batman nodded and spoke before Barbara could respond, “The Batmobile is the safest way out of the city.”

“Thanks, I appreciate it,” I said, contemplating the awkwardness of the trip, “What’s next?”

“We’ll take the body and regroup at the Batcave,” He explained.

“Uhm,” I began before he turned away, “Can he come?” I asked referring to Roy.

Batman looked Roy up and down; the archer smiled clumsily as he felt himself being scrutinised. Bruce didn’t say anything coherent; he made a sort of angry grunt that I took as a reluctant yes.

Barbara stepped back into the room, looking suitably upset.

I approached her and asked under my breath, “Do you think she’d let me say goodbye?”

“Honestly? I don’t think so,” Barb replied with a supportive smile.

“Alright, come on Speedy,” I said, trying to sound as upbeat as possible, “To the cave.”

Roy stood and crossed his arms, “Stop calling me that, man, not cool.”

"We'll meet you there shortly," Batman said, "Alfred is waiting."


	23. The Masterplan

Upon arriving at the Wingcycle, Roy and I were treated to two unconscious thugs who’d tried in vain to steal the bike and were immobilised by the security lockdown system, one of whom I’d seen shortly before climbing up the fire escape. As was protocol, we dragged them to the sidewalk and woke them up, making the most horrifying threats we could think of before sending them running away with their tails between their legs. Roy found it all quite amusing, I laughed but it was a facade, I felt numb.

After mounting the Wingcycle, the small-talk between Roy and I dissipated pretty quickly. He fired the occasional comment about the scenery here and there, but by the time we reached the cave, we were completely silent.

Roy’s response to the cave wasn’t nearly as awe-inspired as Steph’s, he looked around for a minute or two and nodded approvingly before pulling up a chair at the Batcomputer and firing up YouTube on the big screen.

“I’m gonna go throw this costume in the trash,” I said, heading straight into the vault.

“OK!” Roy shouted.

The vault was as magnificent as I remembered, every iteration of Batman’s suit, Batgirl’s suit and my suits from my days as Robin were on display. In the centre of the room, Jason’s costume was displayed in tribute. Of course, none of the suits in the first section of the vault were even fit to use as far as I could tell - there was an entirely separate room for storing current outfits.

The first room resembled a museum, the second one looked more like a very technologically advanced locker room, complete with large mirrors, long benches and showers - and a wall of storage drawers, each containing a different suit.

Barely through the door I began dismantling the battered Red Hood costume and hurled the parts on to the floor, separating myself from the identity. The Red Hood killed the Talon, Roy killed the Talon, not me, I couldn’t, I wasn’t capable of that. Every fibre of my being wanted to believe that, but I couldn’t hide from it, I betrayed everything I stood for, but what the hell was the alternative?

I kicked the Red Hood suit into the corner of the room and grabbed a clean T-shirt and sweatpants from one of the shelves. I’d just finished dressing as Alfred appeared in the doorway and smiled, a look of sympathy, he’d spoken to Bruce already.

“Master Grayson, can I get you anything?” He asked politely, giving me an even warmer smile.

I sighed and sat down on the bench, “A time machine?”

“I’m afraid,” Alfred said, taking a seat next to me, “Wayne Industries is a few years away from such a development.”

“Shame, I could really use one right now,” I said, trembling,

“Yes, it has been an especially difficult time for you recently,” Alfred said matter-of-factly.

“To put it mildly,” I laughed self-pityingly.

“Do you really wish you could change it? The past, I mean,” Alfred said, “Isn’t it better now, that you know the truth about your father?”

“Maybe before tonight, I might have been able to see it that way but...” I stopped myself.

“What happened tonight, Master Grayson?” Maybe he didn’t know after all.

“I finished what my father started,” I explained, “The Talon, the poor kid my father gave up in my place, I...”

Alfred looked at me understandingly and placed a hand on my shoulder.

“I killed him,” I said finally, the words croaking out of my mouth as if I’d had to force them out of my throat. I expected Alfred’s expression to change, to feel some kind of judgement - but it didn’t.

“You are a good man, Master Grayson, as much as you’re trying not to believe it right now. I trust that if you made that choice, it was the right one,” Alfred said reassuringly, gripping my shoulder more tightly.

“I don’t know Alf; I think you’re giving me too much credit,” I laughed.

“Pardon me, Master Grayson, but that’s nonsense,” Alfred said before standing up, “Are you sure I can’t get you anything, a hot chocolate perhaps?”

I laughed, “No thanks, Alf, I’m good.”

“Master Bruce,” Alfred greeted. Bruce was in the doorway, stern and severe, sans the cape and cowl. Alfred nodded at him and walked out of the vault without another word.

“With me,” Bruce said, “Now.”

It wasn’t a polite request, he wasn’t talking to me with the respect of a man, but the harsh tone of a disapproving father.

I obeyed and followed him. He led me out of the vault and across the cave to the dojo. The dojo was bright and strangely inviting in comparison to the rest of the cave; the white walls and Japanese influence gave it the distinct feeling of being in a completely separate world.

Bruce grabbed a bokken from the far wall and threw it for me to catch.

Hours, days, weeks, maybe months of my life when I add it all up were spent in that dojo learning discipline and combat - but this wasn’t training, it was a different kind of lesson.

We faced one another, wooden swords in hand and bowed low. Bruce took a swipe for the face which I blocked with ease and held for a moment. Too long. His second swipe brought the bokken round and nearly caught the other side of my face.

“You know that Oliver Queen and I don’t see eye to eye,” Bruce said, throwing another jab at me which I parry.

“Right,” I replied, unsure of where he was going with this.

“But he’s a lot like you and me,” Bruce continued, and I listened intently, intrigued, “The difference is that he can switch off the part of himself that values life, and he can justify taking it away. He believes that killing is an option.”

I felt that horrible sensation in my gut as I jumped aside to avoid a strike.

“I don’t,” He continued, “And before tonight, I thought you believed that too.”

“Bruce, I...”

“You disappointed me tonight,” He said, and I felt a lump in my throat as I narrowly avoided another attack, “You’ve been careless and irresponsible all year, getting yourself shot, revealing your identity to a girl you met on a rooftop, hanging out with that idiot Harper, accidentally dosing yourself with Vertigo...”

“I get it, OK!” I growled, striking him back for the first time and making contact with his arm, “I’m a failure! Is that what you want me to say? Or do I have to stand here and justify myself to you?”

“Dick...”

“No, Bruce, it’s my turn to talk. You had your say, you’re disappointed in me, and you know what? So am! You always told me to forge my own path, and I thought that’s what I was doing, but I lost my way,” I spat, hurling a hit right at Bruce’s face, “I spent months hating you after Jason, I didn’t come up here, and I couldn’t look you in the eye because I knew as soon as I did we’d be OK and I wanted to hold on to that grudge and maintain all that anger I had inside me and direct it at you.”

“I know,” Bruce said calmly, “Because I was doing the same thing.”

I wanted to shout something back, but the words got stuck, and I simply said, “What?”

“I was a coward,” Bruce said, and he drove his bokken toward me in a stabbing motion, “I blamed you for everything when you needed me to be a father.”

I parried and jabbed at his throat, missing by inches, “I’ve learned lately that... Fathers aren’t all they’re cracked up to be.”

“The bad ones aren’t,” He said, I knew he was referring to himself but I didn’t correct him, “From here on out, we work together, we communicate, we support one another. You made a bad call tonight, and maybe you thought it was the only call, but you should have trusted me to help you, and I should have given you more reasons to trust me.”

Bruce always said not to bring emotions with you into battle, and he was right because as he spoke, he let his guard down for a fraction of a second, and I swept his leg with the bokken, knocking him flat on his back. I held the wooden sword to his throat and commanded, “Yield.”

Unexpectedly, Bruce began to laugh, an infectious laugh. In a flash, my feet were dragged from underneath me, and suddenly I was the one on the ground with the bokken held to my throat.

“Yield,” Bruce said.

I complied and let my weapon drop, “I almost had you.”

“Almost.”

***

As a group, we sat around the Batcomputer and waited for Barbara to begin her presentation. Steph looked at me, mouthing the words ‘Are you OK?’ to which I nodded, I wasn’t OK, but after my talk with Bruce, it felt like I could get there.

“So, the Talon sightings haven’t got much of a pattern to them in terms of location,” Barb began, “But what we have noticed is that there hasn’t been a single outdoor CCTV system that has caught them on camera, which suggests that...”

“That your software needs an update?” Roy suggested, receiving a cold glare from Bruce.

Barb scowled, “No... I mean... Maybe, but we think it means they’re moving around underground.”

“They do stink, so I guess we’d never be able to tell if they’d been crawling in sewage,” I said, thinking back to the distinct stench of death that hovered around them.

Bruce moved toward the bat-computer and stroked his chin, something he would often do when he’d hit some kind of mental hurdle or was having an idea; I hoped it was the latter because I needed a breakthrough, I needed this to be over. Barbara stopped for a moment and watched him as he typed away.

“There are more than 6,000 miles of pipes running under the city, and we can’t triangulate any sort of common position,” He began, “But we do know that Crane had been dealing with them, and may even have been planning an attack.”

Barbara tilted her head, “And?”

“Crane has been programming students, at least one of them specifically belonging to a fraternity,” He went on.

“Then we should go to the frat house, and see if anyone else there has been brainwashed,” I said.

Bruce nodded, “I’ll leave that with you. Go over as a civilian; it’s almost light,” He glared disdainfully at Roy, “And take him with you.”

“What about me?” Steph thundered, with more aggression than I think she’d intended, drawing a look from Bruce that was close to a smile.

“You’re staying here, we need to have a conversation,” Bruce explained forebodingly, “Barbara and I are going to try and come up with a way to deprogramme any students who Crane might have affected, for the time being, you’ll have to subdue them as best you can.”

***

Roy and I approached the front of the frat house, it was 9am, so I didn’t expect any of them to be awake. To my surprise, two guys were throwing a football to one another on the front lawn. Roy raised a hand to greet them, but they continued to throw back and forth robotically.

“Hey there, bros!” Roy called mockingly, “May I speak to the chief bro, if you would be so kind?”

The men continued to throw, ignoring him completely.

“Well, they’re rude,” Roy said.

I stuck my arm out and stopped him from going any further, signalling for him to be quiet, “Look,” I whispered, “They aren’t blinking,”

Roy looked closely at them, then back at me, he shuddered, “Holy shit, what the hell is going on.”

The ball continued back and forth; the same throws again and again. I got close to one of them and walked around him in a circle, careful not to block the trajectory of the ball.

“Dude,” Roy called, “Look at this!”

I turned, and I’m not sure why I was surprised considering his track record for utter stupidity, but Roy had his finger on the end of the other man’s nose and was laughing to himself.

“Stop it, come on, let’s go inside,” I said.

Roy sighed and walked over to me, and we made our way down the path. Just before the front steps was a yellow line spray painted on the floor, thinking nothing of it, we crossed the line to go up the stairs.

“Hey dudes, whatcha doing?” Came a voice from behind us.

I turned to see the two guys had stopped throwing the ball and were approaching us. I waved politely, and Roy mimicked me.

“Hi guys, we were looking to see if we could pledge,” I said quickly, thinking on my feet.

“Oh yeah? We’re not lookin’ for pledges right now man, come back next semester,” The guy said aggressively, tensing his muscles as he got closer, his sidekick in tow.

“Alright, no problem; we’ll get out of your hair,” I smiled.

“Hang on, I brought something,” Roy said, rummaging through the pockets of his hoodie, “One second,” He continued to rummage awkwardly, “Where did I put it.”

“What’s he doing?” The Frat guy asked me.

“I have literally no idea,” I said honestly.

“Bingo! Here, guys, this is for you,” Roy said, grinning as he pulled out a small black object from his sock and walked over to the two quarterback-sized men.

They fell to the ground almost in unison as Roy tazed them both in the neck.

“Jesus Christ, Roy, I was just gonna swing around the back and pop open a window.”

“We’re in a rush, aren’t we?” Roy said, shrugging.

“Let’s get this over with...”

***

We stuffed the two unconscious football players in the closet under the stairs and barred the door with a chair from the dining room; there wasn’t a soul in sight on the ground floor. Roy started to search through drawers while I crept up the creaking staircase. All of the rooms were empty up there too; it wasn’t looking good.

I spent thirty minutes digging through drawers, closets and piles of books to find absolutely nothing. Something crashed downstairs with a giant thud.

“Hey, get down here. I’ve got something!” Roy shouted.

I ran down the stairs, “What is it?”

A bookcase was in pieces on the floor, and its contents were strewn all over the lounge rug. Where it had stood was a small hole in the wall which housed a lever. Without giving it a second’s consideration, Roy reached in and pulled it. A clunk followed, and the floor beneath my feet started to slide. I jumped back quickly to avoid falling down the hole that was emerging.

Books fell down the hole and bounced on the staircase that had revealed itself along with pieces of the bookcase, and eventually, the rug.

Roy gestured smugly down the hole, “After you.”

“Gee, thanks,” I said, walking cautiously down the secret staircase, being careful to avoid the litter of books and broken wood. A door at the foot of the stairs had been left ajar, and beyond it was a dark room exuding a cold draft.

Taking tentative steps, I entered the room, lights flickered on automatically, exposing an enormous basement with forty chairs lined up, facing a large screen. On the left-hand wall were empty shelves and what looked like weapon racks. On the far wall were two doors, I pointed toward one of them and signalled Roy to go in and check it out. He crept in, and I tried the second door, which was locked.

“Check this out,” Roy whispered. The room he was in had another projector and screen but was much smaller. A single chair with belts to bind the hands and feet was fixed to the floor. The headrest had been modified to hold the head completely still and eyes open.

“This must be where he’s programming them, don’t touch that projector,” I told Roy, “We’ll need to get some equipment in here to check this out properly.”

“What about the projector out there?” Roy asked, “Surely we can try that one?”

“Have a look, I’m gonna try and get into the next room,” I said, sliding my rucksack on to the floor and pulling out my lockpick.

It only took a few clicks for the large projector to start playing, the Scarecrow appeared on the screen fully-masked, I turned my head periodically to watch as I tampered with the lock.

“My disciples,” Crane began, his voice altered by the Scarecrow mask, “Our plan has escalated, Gotham’s heroes have intervened and forced my hand, we must move against the city’s oppressors tonight.”

“Tonight? Shit,” I said, tweaking the lock some more, it wasn’t budging.

Crane continued, “Each of you knows your task; you have been training for months, and now is your time!”

“Dick, there’s a map here,” Roy said, I turned my head to him, he was pulling documents from the shelf behind the projector, “It’s of the sewers, I think Babs is right.”

“Take some pictures, send them to her now, then put them in my bag. Once we’ve gotten into this room, we need to move out,” I told him.

“Done.”

“And see what else is -” The door clicked, I got it.

“Oh no, there’s instructions here on how to make explosives and use C4. They’re gonna blow the Court to pieces.”

The door swung open, and there was another click, and something started to beep. The room was as small as the programming room, a series of wires on the walls all led to a table in the centre of the room, which was stacked high with bricks of C4.

“Roy, run!” I shouted, “Now!”

“What?” He said, looking up.

“C4! The place is gonna blow!”

Frantically he scooped up the rucksack and dragged papers from the shelves into it, he bolted to the exit, and I followed not far behind. The floor panel had started to close; it had been triggered by the same mechanism which activated the C4.

By the skin of our teeth, we leapt into the lounge before the floor closed completely behind us.

Roy sprinted to the front door and turned to me, “What the hell are you doing, we gotta move!”

I pointed to the closet under the stairs and heaved the chair from under the handle, Roy realised what I was doing and ran to help, “We better not die for these douchebags!”

“Come on!” I yanked the door open and dragged one of the huge guys by his leg, Roy did the same, and we made for the front door.

A group of students were cutting across the lawn, “Get back!” I shouted, waving my free arm, “Get away from here!”

They looked at me like I was insane as Roy and I made it to the edge of the lawn, letting go of the footballers and diving behind a parked car. Nothing happened. The group started to laugh and point, one girl reaching into her bag to pull out her phone.

I waved frantically at them to get down.

“What the hell are those freaks doing,” She said, “Is that Chad and Tony on the ground, oh my god, those weirdos knocked them out.”

“Call the cops,” Another one said.

“Dick,” Roy whispered, “Are you sure it was C4? Because if it wasn’t, this is pretty embarrassing.”

I snapped back, “Yes, Roy, I’m -”

The ground shook like an earthquake as the frat house exploded from the inside, tearing the building to pieces and raining down flaming debris. The girl with her phone out was hit square in the chest by a trash can lid, and a piece of wood impaled one of her friends’ arms. In seconds we were engulfed in a cloud of dust.

Car alarms started to sound and screaming filled the air. I pulled myself up and coughed out a mouthful of dust. Where the frat house once stood, was now a flaming crater. Roy was still slumped by the car with his hands covering his face.

Thankfully the girl and her friend who were hit by the debris got up and started to run away. I couldn’t tell for, but it looked like no one else was in the near vicinity.

Pulling him to his feet, I said to Roy, “We have to get out of here, the cops will be here any second, we can’t afford to get caught up in this.”

“You sure? Shouldn’t we check and see if anyone’s hurt?” He said, leaning down to check the pulse of one of the footballers.

He was right, but we couldn’t wait, “There were forty chairs in that room down there, there could be just as many brainwashed guys out there with explosives, and they aren’t gonna care who dies as long as they take out the Court. We have to move, now.”


	24. The Dying Of The Light

I had a horrible sense of dread. A foreboding feeling that was rising as if it were about to consume me entirely. As I stood on the top of the half-finished Stromwell building, I knew, I don’t know how, but I knew things would never be the same come the dawn.

Roy called up to me, “All clear.”

I’d asked him and Steph to evacuate the settlers from the building while I monitored the GCPD’s progress in quietly doing the same to the surrounding apartment blocks. Gordon wasn’t sure what to think of our little conspiracy theory, but he trusted Bruce enough to follow orders regardless. We had to make sure the evacuation was as discreet as possible; we didn’t want the Court, or Crane’s followers to know we were coming. 

The maps we’d taken from the frat led us to a sewer intersection where several pipes from the area met and spilt into an extensive sewage duct, like the one Steph and I had climbed up. The intersection happened to sit right beneath the road in front of the Stromwell building.

Bruce and Barb were already down in the tunnels, scouting ahead. He insisted that we wait above ground for his signal; I was growing impatient. The documents Roy had stuffed in the bag suggested they had enough C4 to blow up the Frat House 10 times over, not to mention whatever explosives they’d managed to make themselves.

“Did you both make sure to top up on the vertigo vaccine?” I asked.

“Yes, boss,” Roy replied sarcastically.

Steph zipped up to the beam where I was standing and sat down behind me, tapping me on the shoulder and nodding in the affirmative.

“What do you think’s gonna happen if they blow up the Court?” Steph asked.

“If the frat was anything to go by, it’ll make a very big hole in the ground,” I sighed.

“That’s not really what I meant.”

“I know,” I said, pausing for a moment, “I guess if he’s successful, there’ll be a vacancy at the head of the table. And he’ll inherit whatever influence the Court has, so long as he has the manpower to back it up.”

“Right,” Steph replied. 

“Or, he blows them up, and we take him down right after.”

“Makes our jobs easier, I guess...” She said grimly. 

“We...” The hypocrisy of what I was about to say gave me an uncomfortable pang of guilt in my stomach, “We don’t kill.”

“No, I know, I was just joking. Gotta have a sense of humour, right?”

I turned around and smiled, “Yeah, true.”

“You’ve been in this since you were a kid, right?” She asked as I sat down next to her.

“Yeah.”

“So you’ve had to deal with stuff like this before?”

“Unfortunately,” I nodded. 

She gulped, “Is this... Bad? Like, compared to what you’ve dealt with in the past?”

“It’s bad.”

There was dead silence for a minute or so as she seemed to digest what I said. 

“Batman told me I could go home, you know. He said I didn’t have to be involved,” Steph explained.

“Do you want to go home?” I asked, thinking that I’d be happier if she did go home.

“I do,” She said, to my surprise, “But I can’t.”

“You can; I won’t judge you. In fact, I’d prefer it.”

“Oh, thanks for the confidence.”

“It’s not that I’m not confident; I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Because I’m a girl?” She sniped. 

I laughed, “You’ve met Bat-girl, right?”

“Whatever, you still think I shouldn’t be here.”

“Why bring it up, if you weren’t looking for me to convince you to go home?”

“I don’t know,” She shrugged.

“Why are you here?” I asked.

“To help you, ungrateful much,” She scoffed.

“No. What are you fighting for?”

“I...” She began, then paused.

I sighed, “If you don’t know, maybe you should go home.”

Her head turned to face me; she took down her hood and removed her mask so that I could see her face.

“My dad went to prison when I was five; he was involved in a money laundering scheme. We used to visit him once a month, assuming my mom could afford the bus fare, my mom always told me he was innocent and that he was a good man,” Steph said, her tone more serious than I’d ever heard it before, “He got out when I was ten, and things were great. He moved straight back in, got a job as a janitor at Arkham Asylum, he’d take me to the park on weekends - those were my best memories.

When I was thirteen, I started to notice things; he was spending more hours at work, and in the basement, he and my mom were arguing all the time. One day, I heard a plate crash, when I got to the kitchen my dad stormed past me and went down into the basement again, my mom was sat at the table crying her eyes out with a big red handprint on the side of her face. Still, she insists that he’s a good man, and he didn’t mean it, he’d been through a lot. She said it so much that I started to believe that shit, and when he started hitting me, I used the same excuse.”

I felt a chill, the idea of her in that situation was painful just think about, “Steph, I had no idea...”

“Then all of a sudden he stops, things start going back to normal, he quits his job, but all this money is coming in, we’re talking about moving to a bigger house, my mom is happier than I’ve ever seen her - we just forgave him. While this is going on, we keep hearing about these robberies on the news, my mom was clueless, but it didn’t take long for me to put two and two together and bust into his basement. Piles of cash, homemade bombs and all these news articles pinned up like fricking trophies’ Cluemaster still at large’, ‘Who is the Cluemaster?’. I was reading them when he found me down there; he starts grovelling like a kid saying how he loves my mom and me and that telling her would break her heart. I told him to screw himself and went to tell my mom, next thing I knew I was in the hospital with three broken ribs and a concussion. He told them I took a bad step and fell down the stairs, put on crocodile tears for the cops and doctors, and I just let him do it.

“He carried on doing his thing for a couple of years; we never moved, he just kept stockpiling the cash. And on the night I decided I’d had enough, the night I decided I was going to kill him, our back door burst open,” Her lips quivered, it hurt her to tell me because she was ashamed of herself for even entertaining the idea of killing someone, “But... It wasn’t the cops; it was the Batman. He towered over my dad, scared the living shit out of him, I hid at the top of the stairs and watched him throw my dad around like a ragdoll. When he finally took him away, I cried like a baby, not because I was sad or because I loved him, but because I didn’t fight back, and my mom didn’t fight back, we were too scared when we didn’t have to be. I swore to myself that I was going to be ready if he ever got out, that I’d keep my mom safe, and I’d learn to keep other people safe too, and maybe they’d see me and realise they don’t have to be afraid, just like I did when I first saw the Batman. Then you came along and... Well, you know the rest.”

“I’m sorry that happened to you, and I’m sorry that I was an asshole about it,” I said sincerely, feeling as if an invisible wall has been torn down between us, that we finally had a level of understanding that wasn’t present before.

“I don’t need you to be sorry, I just want you to know why I’m doing this, and why it matters to me,” She smiled, pulling her mask back on.

“Well, I’m still sorry, and I understand.”

“Alright,” Steph said, vaulting to her feet, “Let’s move before we start hugging and crying or some shit, or you try to kiss me again.”

“What?” Roy laughed from underneath us.

“That’s not what happened,” I replied, “And how long have you been down there?”

“Long enough... I can’t believe you tried to kiss her, you creep,” Roy chuckled.

“It was incredibly gross,” Steph concurred.

“We were hiding under water, and I tried to give her some air!” I snapped, “Should I have let you drown?”

“Classic move, man, I’ve employed the tactic myself once,” Roy said smugly.

Steph laughed loudly as I got to my feet and said, “Screw you guys, I’m...”

My earpiece buzzed, and Bruce’s voice said, “We’ve found them, get down here.”

It was time.

***

The smell of the sewer didn’t bother me so much this time; I did my best to block it out so that I might pick up on any nearby Talons. Upon climbing down, we were treated to an eerie silence which pricked up the hairs on the back of my neck, I’d expected to hear fighting or at the very least some voices, but there was nothing but the sound of water droplets.

We took care to tread lightly through the tunnel to mask our approach. Roy suppressed a sneeze, but it still managed to echo loudly, I gave him my best 'you’re an idiot’ look and continued to trawl along through the water, Steph managing to stay the quietest of the three of us. A rumble of water grew louder and louder the further we got.

As anticipated, the tunnel joined several others in a hub, just like the one that Steph and I had climbed up before, identical in every way except that this one had more gushing water and from the sound of roaring water behind us, was much closer to the river. Our pipe was slightly elevated, pouring water into the centre of the large hole. Carefully I leaned out to look upwards, from what little I could see Batman and Batgirl were concealed among some small pipes on the ceiling which sat a ways above the pit.

“You’re clear, get up here as quickly as you can,” Bruce said in my ear.

I nodded to Steph and Roy, signalling for them to stay put as I fired a line up to the ceiling and zipped swiftly upwards. Hooked to the roof by my belt, I gave a mock-salute to Bruce who scowled back at me. At a glance, the area was again identical to the one that Steph and I had been in before, albeit a little bit larger, including the metal door. I wasn’t sure how Bruce had concluded that they’d come to the right place, because there wasn’t a soul in sight.

“Where are they?” I asked, confused.

“Where do you think? Barbara said, pointing at the large door, “One of the Talons went through, and we managed to get a tracker on him that emits a sonar pulse which has mapped the rooms beyond.”

“Rooms? How far down does it go?” I questioned.

“There’s a small tunnel, and another big door, and past there is a room laid out like a...”

“A courtroom.”

“Yep. And from what we could pick up on, it’s brimming with Talons.”

“What’s the catch? This all seems a little too convenient.”

“The doors,” Barbara sighed, “There’s no discernible handle or locking system, the Talon simply approached the first one, and it opened for him then we think he spoke a password to get past the second.”

“You think? Couldn’t you have put a mic on the sonar device?” I asked, thinking I was stating the obvious.

She glowered at me, “You try compacting sonar technology down to the size of a button and see if you can fit a mic in there as well. Besides, sonar is projected sound, and if it’s too close to a mic there could be feedback, and then the Talon would know something was on him.”

“Sorry I asked,” I said with a gulp.

“So you should be,” She huffed, “I’ve uploaded the sonar map of the courtroom to your VISR anyway so that you can check it out for yourself.”

With a click, I opened the 3D sonar map up on my VISR display and started to analyse the area. It all looked just as Barbara had stated, although it was a lot bigger than I’d anticipated. Due to the size of the sonar device, it could only project so far and with so much detail, which meant it was hard to tell just how many other Talons there were in the room.

A sharp jab in the arm brought me back to reality, and I switched off the vibrant blue image to see what was happening beneath me. Torchlight began to creep up from the exit tunnel, first one beam, then three, then several more followed by the sound of marching footsteps.

The Scarecrow emerged, surrounded by men dressed head to toe in black with gas masks on, all of whom were armed, some carrying bricks of C4 and others adorned with overfilled rucksacks.

“You,” Scarecrow said to one of the men, “Fix a charge to the door.” Turning to two of the others, both with rucksacks on, he pointed at them and said, “Lay the trap.”

The two men obliged and made for the door. Once the first of the men had finished planting an explosive on the door, the other two began to unpack their bags a few feet from the gate at either side of it, seemingly outside of the blast radius of the original device.

“What are they?” I asked.

Barbara shook her head, and Bruce continued to look on with his fist raised, a silent way of telling us to stay put.

I watched anxiously as the two men finished unpacking their devices and activated them. An almost invisible red laser appeared between the two, definitely a trip wire of some sort, but the devices didn’t look like any bombs I’d ever seen, more like dispensers.

“Ready your weapons, you know your duties,” Scarecrow barked, “I will return when the task is complete.”

Crane walked back down the tunnel, and four of the men followed him. I desperately wanted to get after him, but Bruce still had his fist raised and was watching intently.

The rest of Crane’s Army formed a wall and took a few steps back, aiming their weapons at the door.

“What now?” I asked impatiently.

“Wait,” Bruce said, “When they blow the door, we hit the main infantry with smoke pellets and drop down behind them. Disarm, but do not incapacitate, we need as many of them on their feet as possible when the Talons come out. Barbara, I’ll need you to hit them with your EMP device as soon as you land and fry their communications.”

“Understood,” Barbara said with a nod.

“Once we’ve thinned the herd, Speedy and Spoiler can join us,” Bruce continued, “If you encounter any explosives, either freeze them or get them into the pit, we have to minimise the risk.”

“What about Crane?” I said.

“That’s why we’re waiting until the explosion; we don’t want him thinking anything went wrong, he’ll hopefully just blame the communications blackout on the initial explosion.”

“Not the soundest plan we’ve ever come up with,” I said sceptically.

“It’s the best we’ve got.”

***

It was more of a pop than a bang, the charge on the door left a smouldering hole where a handle may have been, and it creaked open. The infantry raised their guns in anticipation, trained carefully on the door. They never once thought to look up.

I dropped a handful of pellets and unhooked myself from the ceiling, falling delicately on to the guardrail at the edge of the pit, landing just as the smoke engulfed the armed men. Normally I’d have expected the men to panic and shoot frantically, but no such chaos ensued, which I could only assume was down to the Scarecrow’s mental programming. Nevertheless, I threw myself into the smoke and landed a kick which sent one of the men tumbling into two of his comrades.

As if they were somehow able to see through the smoke as quickly as I could with my thermal vision, two of the men fired right at me, missing by inches. Batman must have seen this happen as on my next glance the two were on their backs and their rifles had been thrown into the pit.

Unintentionally but as if it was the most natural thing in the world, Barbara and I fell into step beside one another, coordinating our efforts to disarm and disorientate our oncoming foes. Back to back, we pressed against one another and kicked out, each flattening a man, before breaking apart to hurl their guns away.

The gunfire lessened as we smashed and threw away more guns, but there was still no sign of the Talons.

“Time to come up, guys!” I radioed to Roy and Steph.

A stocky member of Scarecrow’s gang, built like a quarterback, charged at me from out of the slowly dissipating smoke, taking me completely by surprise, sending me gracelessly careering into the guardrail head-first. A witty retort found itself stuck on the end of my tongue as the burly fellow clocked me in the jaw while I tried to get up.

Somewhat disoriented, I used what Jason used to call ‘the forbidden move’ due to an unfortunate incident in training where he’d pinned me down by my arms, and I had only one option which involved my knee and his groin. The beast of a man reacted in much the same way as Jason had, by doubling up in pain and clutching his stomach.

“Woah, that was dirty,” Steph said, appearing behind me and helping me to my feet.

“What else was I supposed to do?” I said, jabbing a passing enemy in the throat and breaking his gun over my knee.

“Anything but that, that’s like, against the rules,” Steph said, sweeping one of the guys by the leg. I grabbed her arm as she started to drive her fist into his face, but before I could explain that we weren’t supposed to knock them out, there was an earth-shattering boom, followed by an unholy screech.

It felt like my eardrums were going to burst, I couldn’t bear to take my hands off the side of my head and from the looks of it neither could anyone else. Talons flooded out of the Court and began attacking the helpless victims of the sonic shriek. Try as I might, I couldn’t see where the noise was coming from, and worse still it felt as though I was about to pass out.

A Talon dropped down from above and landed right beside me, a hooked knife in hand, taking no time to go for the throat. With great difficulty, I dropped on to my back and planted a double kick into his chest. The knife clattered to the ground next to Steph who like Roy was curled up in a ball. The Talon picked up the blade again, this time aiming at Steph, and there was nothing I could do, the noise was piercing my head, it felt as though my head was burning, about to burst and then... It stopped.

Batman was stood holding one of the Talons by the throat, in his other hand was no doubt the offending weapon which had generated the shrill shriek, which he crushed in his fist as he threw the Talon aside.

As the Talon I’d fought made to stab Steph, she drove both fists up into his jaw and followed with a kick straight in his gut, sending him hurtling back into the guardrail with such a force that he toppled over it and into the pit.

There was no time to reflect on the feat I’d witnessed as we were swarmed by blade-wielding Talons, who were cutting through Crane’s soldiers as if they were made of paper, their programming making it almost impossible to protect them because if we even got close to them, they’d attack us too.

It was as I threw a Talon over my shoulder that I spotted Crane’s devices on the ground, the laser between them had broken, but it seemed Barb’s EMP had stopped them from going off. If I were a cartoon character, a big lightbulb would have pinged above my head at that moment.

I charged through the crowd, Steph running behind me, keeping the Talons and drones off my back. Batman was taking on four separate Talons at once without breaking a sweat, while Roy had perched himself near to the ceiling on a pipe and was covering Barbara as she fought hordes of the feathered assassins.

Unsheathing my escrima sticks, I clubbed a pair of Crane’s men out cold simultaneously and spun into a kick which knocked a sword straight from a Talon’s hand. The bewildered Talon then finding himself on the receiving end of a tremendous lunging attack from Steph, who tackled him to the ground and ruthlessly began cracking him in the head with her fists.

I slid past the last couple of goons in my way and got over to the makeshift devices. As I suspected, they were pressurised containers and had Crane’s plan gone off without a hitch; we might have saved ourselves a world of trouble. Using the freezing solution Bruce had equipped us with to delay the detonation of C4, I sprayed the side of the first container and then rolled over to the second one and did the same.

As I made to smash the container, something grabbed my wrist.

“I don’t think so, little bird,” A voice boomed, I looked up to see a Talon that could have entered a bodybuilding contest with Bane and probably stood a decent chance of winning was holding on to my arm.

“Oh dear,” I winced as a fist the size of my head clattered into the side of my chest, knocking the wind out of me.

The brute lifted me by the arm and struck again in the same place; this time I felt something crack as I gasped for air. I swung limply off the ground trying to get my breath back as he hit me for the third time, letting out a cruel laugh as he did.

I spotted Roy in my peripherals, trying to get a shot on the giant owl.

“No!” I shouted weakly, “Not him, shoot the...”

I couldn’t get the last word out as the fourth hit caused me to spit blood. The great Talon dropped me on the ground and raised his enormous foot above my head. I’d always thought in the back of my mind that there was no retiring from this job, and that eventually I’d be taken down by some villain or another, but having my head crushed like a watermelon felt in that moment like the worst possible way to go.

My blurred vision came back into focus, and I realised that he’d dropped me right in front of one of the containers. Using what strength I had left, I rolled out of the way of the oncoming foot and drove my escrima stick through the side of the frozen container, causing its contents to burst out, throwing me backwards in a flurry of green smoke. The next thing I saw was an arrow dropping down on to the second container, which released even more of the toxin.

Being at the heart of the explosion, I inhaled a large amount of gas, which despite my inoculation, made me puke uncontrollably. But I’d have chosen vomiting over the reactions that some of the Talons were having.

The fighting had all but stopped for a moment, Batman, Batgirl and Spoiler had all stepped back as the Talons began screaming and hitting one another, complaining of various fears. Some of Crane’s men whose gasmasks had been broken or come off altogether during the carnage were acting similarly.

As the toxin took effect more widely, the chaos resumed, and I found myself pressed back against a wall unable to see most of what was happening.

“Nightwing is pinned,” Bruce’s voice said in my ear, “Speedy, you have the best vantage point, try and get him clear. Spoiler, you’re nearest to the pit, get down to the tunnel the way you came in and get out on to the street.”

“What? I told you I’m here to help!” Spoiler replied.

“I know, I need you to get to the Batmobile, it’s been keyed to recognise your voiceprint. In the back there’s a metal briefcase, I need you to get it and bring it back to us as fast as you can,” Bruce explained.

“Alright, I’m on it, Batman!” She said proudly, as a flash of purple disappeared over the guardrail.

I hit back some of the manic Talons and tried to edge forward and get to Batman and Batgirl who were wading towards the door which led into the courtroom. A crazed drone of Crane’s lunged at me with a knife, but lacked any sort of precision, so I simply stepped aside and let him fall over by himself.

The enormous brute-Talon seemed to draw in on Roy as the source of his fear, and began to throw weapons and whatever he could grab at the archer, eventually throwing another Talon, which collided with Roy and knocked him from his perch.

“Roy, you good?” I asked nervously.

“Yeah, that big asshole won’t leave me alone though!” Roy said breathlessly.

“Need a hand?”

“Nah I got a few trick arrows up my – woah!” Roy was hurled over the crowd, landing on top of a couple of unconscious enemies, “I’m alright, I’m alright!”

As I got a little closer to Batman, smoke began emanating from beneath my feet, and then in pockets all around until a thick smog was engulfing the entire area.

“What the hell, Batman is this you?” I called out.

“Negative, be on your guard,” He replied.

The thermal vision was a nightmare; too many people were fighting and piling atop one another to see what was going on. After a few seconds, I grappled up to the ceiling again to get a better view, which was when I noticed them. Four figures were calmly strolling through the crowd. And another had emerged from the tunnel and was standing on the sidelines, examining the chaos.

“Batman, Batgirl, I think Crane is back, his boys are in the centre of the crowd making their way through,” I explained.

Two of them stopped in their tracks while the others continued to walk toward the court entrance. Barbara seemed to spot them and slowly gave chase through the chaos.

“Careful Barb, the Talon nearest the door is a little bigger than the others,” I told her, watching the Bane-like Talon knock down his brethren like bowling pins.

“Thanks,” She replied, ducking away from a randomly thrown punch.

Suddenly, the two men broke into a run, charging straight through the door, “Hang on, I think they’ve spotted you,” I explained, “They’re in the court already.”

“Batgirl, stay put. Nightwing, get into the courtroom, we’ll deal with the ones in the crowd,” Batman commanded, paddling into the crowd and dragging the battling maniacs to the side.

“On it,” I said, firing a line above the court entrance. I took a deep breath, causing a pang in my side, before dropping into a swing. I thought for sure that there had been enough surprises that day, as I caught sight of the two black-clad men stood in the centre of the courtroom - I assumed that I’d have all the time in the world to stop them planting their bomb, only, they were the bomb.

My feet hadn’t quite touched the ground when the two men disappeared in a flash of fire, rubble and dust. A wall of thick grey soot and invisible force bowled me into the crowd of fear-stricken talons and drones, many of whom were knocked over themselves. Barbara, taken by the power of the blast managed to retain her focus and use it to her advantage, striking down one of the Scarecrow’s men who had positioned himself in the middle of the crowd.

I hauled myself up, dazed but determined, the other stood unchallenged at the edge of the pit, pulling open his jacket to reveal a vest of C4, enough to bring the whole place down around us. My friends, my family, all gone in an instant and I was the only thing that could stop him. Everything I’d learned about my father, losing Melissa, all that I’d done, melted away as I charged forward with untempered resolve, ready to throw myself into the pit with the bomber - it was the only way. Nothing was going to stop me, until it did.

A hand on my shoulder pulled me back; I felt a knee strike me off balance, I fell again. Batman stormed forward, unstoppable. I tried to run after him but he’d already grabbed the bomber, throwing himself and the man over the guardrail, I felt myself scream as I reached out. A pillar of force and flame rose from the pit propelling me backwards as fire and debris rained down. I hit the wall hard. And then, darkness.

***

My ears were ringing, and the air was thick with dust, I woke up in a heap amongst piles of rubble. My vision returned in a sharp flash but it was unfocused. My eyes stung as they were pecked by the snow that had started to fall in from the hole that had been blown in the ceiling above us. I’d been lucky, it didn’t feel like any shrapnel had hit me, and there definitely wasn’t much debris on top of me because I could move. As far as injuries, I could only feel a broken rib.

I felt drunk, like everything that had just happened was some kind of hallucination – like a lousy Vertigo trip.

My hearing was coming back; I could hear voices now. They were calling for Batman and me. I could only assume they hadn’t seen what had happened.

The debris on my leg, which appeared to be a metal girder of some kind, suddenly felt lighter “Nightwing!” It was Batgirl, Barbara Gordon, she lifted the beam off me and heaved it to one side. Her hand wrapped around mine and pulled me from where I was laying – her suit was covered in dust, and her lip was bleeding, but other than that she looked reasonably unscathed. I could only hope my new sidekick had faired the same.

Barbara slung my arm over her shoulder and lifted up my chin to look into my eyes “Nightwing, what happened?” I was a man of many words, but I didn’t answer her straight away. There was no way to tell her, I couldn’t, “Nightwing…” She lowered her voice to a whisper, “Dick, where’s Bruce?”

We walked arm-over-shoulder, towards the edge of the pit we’d been fighting on top of – everything we’d just experienced still swarming its way back into my mind. I weakly pointed down into the flames and rubble that now filled what had before been a large sewage duct. “He’s down there, Barb,” I finally said, “He’s gone.”

“No, don’t be ridiculous,” She replied, looking around frantically at the many unconscious bodies strewn on the ground, “Batman!”

“Barb,” I pulled her head around to look her in the eyes, “He’s gone.”

I didn’t want to believe it, but there was no way that anyone could have survived that blast, even Bruce. I felt like jumping into the heap of rubble and digging through the crumbled stone with my bare hands, nothing else mattered to me, but I knew what Bruce would have wanted.

“Where’s Crane?” I said, straightening up and looking around, Batgirl was frozen to the spot. Roy keeled over a few feet away from me once he’d seen that I was alive, before passing out he pointed to a pile of bodies. A figure began to rise from under a heap of unconscious and possibly dead men; it was him; it was Crane.

“There!” I shouted, Batgirl didn’t move, “Hey!” She still didn’t respond. Leaving her where she stood I limped after Crane; he wasn’t getting away, I wouldn’t allow it.

Crane was injured too; he cradled a bleeding arm as he hobbled down the tunnel toward the exit. I thrust forward with all my might, driven purely by force of will, he would not get away.

“Stop! Give it up, professor, it’s over!” I yelled.

Scarecrow stopped and turned to face me, “You were so good at being a slacker, you know,” He cackled.

“What?” I said, spitting blood on to the floor.

“I never once considered you for programming, that’s how ‘off my radar’ you were. Just imagine what I could have accomplished with you as one of my minions. Still, the Court is gone, it’s not a total victory - but a step in the right direction. Without their rule, this city will slip into chaos.”

I clenched my fists, and stomped toward Crane, “Is that what all this was for? All this death? Anarchy? Those men were innocent, some of them were teenagers, and you destroyed them! Do you know how many people you’ve killed? Do you even care?”

“Chaos is a necessary instrument, to tear down the old and build the new in my own image,” Crane laughed, standing his ground, “Frankly, Mr Grayson, I don’t care, those young men I programmed were as worthless as that biker I killed in the alleyway, as worthless as Roland Daggett.”

“Whatever you think you’ve unleashed here, we’ll be there to stop it, and you...” I thought about killing him, strangling the life out of him there on the spot, it was more than he deserved - but Bruce would never, and I had to preserve his legacy now, “You’ll spend the rest of your days in a padded cell.”

I grabbed for him, but he reflexively moved out of the way and jammed a small blade in my gut, “You’re a fascinating man, Dick Grayson, I made a grave error when I underestimated you. When you’re gone, I’ll make sure the world knows your story.”

It was all I had left. I tumbled back toward the wall and slid down it, slumping on the ground, looking up at Crane as he removed the Scarecrow mask to look me in the eyes.

“The fight doesn’t die with me, Crane,” I coughed, “So go on, get it over with, there plenty of people just like me waiting in the wings to take down people like you.” I didn’t want to die, but he wasn’t getting the satisfaction of me begging for my life.

The professor glared right at me down his long hooked nose with his piercing black eyes as he had so many times before, a menacing smile curling in the corners of his mouth, “I’ll keep that in mind”.

I was barely conscious as the metal briefcase bounced off Crane’s temple, knocking him sideways on to the floor. The last thing I saw was a blur of purple followed by the words, “I got the case, I got the case! What happened, are you...” I felt a hand under my chin, and fingers on my eyelids, and then I felt nothing. It was over.


	25. Father And Son

_Those enormous iron gates were so intimidating; I peered up through the car window as they creaked open and we rolled slowly over the gravel and up the long driveway. The manor scared me even more; I’d grown up in caravans and tents for most of my life; this was an extravagance almost entirely alien to me, it looked like something from a horror movie, full to the brim with ghosts and ghouls._

_The man I was with didn’t have to drive his own car; he had someone to do it for him and chose to sit next to me in the back. I liked the driver, he was kind, friendly, and he sounded like someone from an old film, which was strangely comforting._

_We pulled up outside the house. I didn’t want to get out of the car. This was the third different place they expected me to stay, and I just wanted to go home._

_The man who sat next to me got out of the car and walked around to my door, opening it and kneeling in the gravel next to me, his face expressing a softness that looked real. Every other time I’d seen him smile, it looked as if there was nothing behind his eyes like he was pretending to be happy._

_“You’ve been through a lot, Richard,” He began._

_“It’s Dick,” I managed to say, quivering._

_Bruce Wayne smiled again, warmly, “When I was your age, something bad happened to me too, like you, an evil man took my parents from me.”_

_I studied his face further. He understood, he might have been the only person I’d met since it happened that really knew what I was feeling._

_“I wish I could tell you that the pain in your heart is going to go away,” He continued, “But I’m afraid I can’t, I know that the pain in mine never has. If you think you can trust me though, maybe we can find the answer together?”_

_He reached out a hand. I took it and stepped out of the car beside him._

_“You don’t have to worry, Dick, this is your home now, and I’m going to keep you safe.”_

 

***

 

I woke up that day as if nothing had happened, the sun broke through the hospital window, and I could hear birds chirping in the trees of the atrium beyond the glass. Lightheaded, I turned away from the natural light and saw machines and tubes, one attached to my arm, pumping me with something, probably the reason I felt so woozy.

 

At the end of my arm, where my hand usually was, there laid a mess of blonde hair attached to a sleeping girl who looked like she might have been there for days. In the corner of the room in a true-to-brand red hoodie, another familiar figure was slumped in a chair with his feet up on a box labelled bandages, and I wondered how his snoring hadn’t woken me up already.

 

For all I knew, I’d been laid up for weeks, but the events that led to my being there all rushed back in a flood of images, my breathing was suddenly shallow, and my heart was heavy. If it weren’t for the dryness of my eyes, I could easily have burst into tears, as if tears were even enough to express the anguish that had swept over me. Bruce was gone. A day I’d known was coming since I took up the mantle of Robin all those years ago.

 

Death was something we dealt with all too often in our line of work, but when one of our own passes away, it’s as if you lose a piece of yourself along with them. Bruce was the patriarch of this vigilante family, the glue that held the whole thing together, captain of the ship. And now what were we supposed to do?

 

It wasn’t a decision to be made in a split second on a hospital bed, but luckily Roy leaned on the TV remote, and the small set on the wall blurted to life and distracted me.

 

“Political Activist and daughter of the late Carl Beaumont, who tragically died at the hands of serial killer Victor Zsasz, Andrea Beaumont spoke to reporters at the courthouse this afternoon,” The broadcaster said in a monotone voice. The picture cut to a red-headed woman on the steps of the Gotham Courthouse, I’d never actually spoken her, but I knew her face, Andrea had been an old flame of Bruce’s from before I’d gone to live with him and I’d attended an event of hers not so long ago.

 

“Crime is on the rise in Gotham,” Andrea began, staring resolutely into the camera, “And it’s high time the justice system was held accountable for the plague that has been unleashed upon this city. For too long, criminals like the Joker, Victor Zsasz and most recently Mr Freeze have gotten away with pleading insanity on the stand. Earning them comfortable sentences in the frankly inadequate Arkham Asylum. Most of whom were certified by Dr Jonathan Crane, who himself was discovered to be behind one of the most dangerous terrorist plots this city has ever seen.”

 

I sat up and eyed the TV carefully as she continued.

 

“I will be taking my petition, which has already amassed over 250,000 signatures in just a few days to the supreme court where I will demand that all insanity verdicts certified by Dr Jonathan Crane are overturned - and the criminals who have so far escaped real justice are returned to Blackgate Prison,” She explained, a flash of aggression in her eyes.

 

“There is a rumour that you’ll you be seeking the death penalty for Victor Zsasz, is there any truth to this?” Asked a member of the press from behind the camera.

 

“I will, for him and others,” She nodded, “Too many have suffered at the hands of these animals while the Police and the Batman have allowed them to yo-yo between Arkham and the streets.”

 

“What about Crane himself, surely no sane man could do the things he’s done?” Another voice asked.

 

“That’s for the courts to decide,” Andrea said, “No further questions.”

 

The picture flashed back to the news studio where the two anchors began discussing what Andrea had said. I’d seen enough. I couldn’t argue with her logic; the number of escapees from Arkham was something that had always bothered me. The door opened and derailed my train of thought before it could really even leave the station. Barbara stood in the doorway with three cups of coffee; she looked pristine. Anyone who didn’t know her might have missed the pain and grief in her eyes.

 

The redhead’s shoulders dropped, and she heaved a silent sigh of relief, a smile forming in the corners of her mouth as she noticed me staring into her eyes.

 

“Hey,” She said softly.

 

“Hey,” I croaked back, “How long was I out?”

 

Closing the door behind her and placing the coffee cups down on my bedside table, Barbara sat down and said, “Three days.”

 

“Wow,” I replied, rubbing my throat, “What’s the official story?”

 

“Mugging gone wrong, I was hoping Leslie could treat you at the cave, but she made us bring you here. Someone from the Gazette was tipped off about you being brought in, but you only made it on to page six,” Barb explained, “Crane has been front page news every day since he was caught. It sounds like they’re going to lock him up in his favourite place.”

 

“Arkham,” I said coldly, shaking my head.

 

“They might have a lot of empty cells opening up; it looks like they’re going to reevaluate every insanity plea that Crane had a hand in. It turns out he was getting people sent to Arkham in exchange for favours, which is what eventually got him on Daggett’s radar I imagine.”

 

“I just saw on the TV. And what about...” Bruce’s name got stuck in my throat, but Barbara knew what I was going to ask.

 

“Alfred showed us a file Bruce had given him, telling us what to do in the event of his... His death,” She began, taking a deep breath, “For the time being we have to act as though he’s alive.”

 

“What?” I said, taken aback.

 

“We’re going to keep up the pretence that Bruce is alive, and eventually that he’s gone travelling. He wanted to make sure that if something happened, he couldn’t be easily linked to the identity of the Batman, so that we could carry on after he’d gone.”

 

“Doesn’t matter anyway, Crane knows my identity,” I thought out loud, “He’s probably already figured out the rest.”

 

“Well if he has, he’s not said anything,” Barb said, shrugging.

 

I wondered for a moment why Crane hadn’t said anything. Perhaps the blow to the head had been even harder than it looked, more likely he had some nefarious scheme up his sleeve that he’d spring on me, using the secret as leverage.

 

Steph stirred, her head slowly rising from my hand which she’d also been gripping tightly.

 

“You drooled on my hand,” I said to her in an involuntarily raspy voice.

 

Blinking a few times to make sure she wasn’t dreaming, Steph wiped her mouth with the back of her sleeve and scowled, “No, I did not.”

 

Barbara took one of the coffee cups and passed it over to Steph who smiled and nodded appreciatively.

 

“I’m gonna go give Alfred a call and let him know you’re awake,” Barbara said, standing up, “He’s been asking for updates every half hour.”

 

“Thanks, Barb,” I smiled as she left in a flash of red hair. Turning to look at Steph, I said: “Tell me you haven’t been laying there for three days?”

 

“Not the whole time, I went home to shower, I’m not an animal,” She replied, rubbing her tired eyes.

 

“You didn’t have to,” I said, receiving a glare, “But I’m glad you did.”

 

“I did,” She said, beginning to sob completely out of nowhere, “It’s my fault you’re in here, if I’d gotten there sooner I could have...”

 

“You got there as quickly as you could and, as much as I hate to admit it, you saved my life... Again,” I said, holding her hand.

 

She wiped her eyes and sniffed, “True, I guess.”

 

“I hope I never have to return the favour.”

 

***

 

Roy awoke not long after Steph and explained how he’d managed to get a date with a nurse, something I wasn’t sure I believed, but I nodded along politely regardless. Barbara returned to the room with a Doctor at the end of the story and heard just enough to roll her eyes.

 

The doctor checked my charts and told me to drink plenty of water and said she’d be back to check on me within the hour. When the door closed behind the Doctor, Barbara shared with us some updates she’d heard from Alfred.

 

It turned out that the explosions below ground had done much more damage than the investigators initially believed, and it was going to cost the city a small fortune to fully fix that part of the drainage system. The underground courtroom was built directly into the foundations of the Stromwell building which were now considered to be too dangerous, and the unfinished building was due to be demolished in the coming weeks to prevent a total collapse.

 

There’d also be a review of other nearby buildings to make sure that there wasn’t any damage to their structural integrity. We then talked about the snow, which had already stopped in the time I’d been asleep, and barely settled in the first place. And then we went over the news reports on Crane again, anything to avoid addressing what had happened to Bruce.

 

“So, erm, how long til you’re on your feet again?” Roy asked before the room fell into an awkward silence.

 

“I don’t know, that was the first doctor I spoke to, being unconscious and all that,” I said sarcastically.

 

“Well once you’re back on your feet, I’m gonna have to hit the road,” He explained.

 

It was funny, when Roy arrived, I couldn’t wait to get rid of him, but we’d been through a hell of a lot during his stay in Gotham and my heart sunk a little to hear that he was leaving.

 

“Shame,” Steph said, “I thought the three of us made a pretty good team. Annoying as you are.”

 

“Don’t worry Stephie, there’s time for me to take you out to dinner before I go,” Roy said, flashing a grin.

 

“I’m good, thanks, pretending to be your girlfriend was bad enough.”

 

I laughed hard, pulling my stitches slightly and causing gasp that silenced the room and drew all eyes sharply to me, “I’m alright, I’m alright,” I reassured them, “Where are you headed next, Roy?”

 

“I’m gonna hit up Vegas,” He explained.

 

“Business or pleasure?” Barbara asked.

 

“Bit of both,” Roy said with a wink that made Barb shudder slightly, “Got plenty of seats if any of you want to join me?”

 

I thought for a second about leaving it all behind and going on a road trip with Roy, I’d only been to Vegas once in my entire life, and it had only been a passing visit. But I couldn’t leave Gotham, not now, maybe not ever.

 

“I’m good, thanks,” I said with a laugh.

 

“What about you, Blondie?” Roy asked, directing the question to Steph.

 

“Tempting,” Steph replied, “But I think I’ll stick around, going on the road with you sounds a lot like torture to me.”

 

“You coulda just said no.”

 

***

 

I was discharged a week later. Emily and Nate stopped by a few times, and I got cards from people I’d never even heard of. But nothing at all from the one person I wanted to see most, I thought maybe she hadn’t heard what happened, but more likely she still blamed me for what happened to her father.

 

When I thought of her, I wished it would take me back to our first kiss, or the night I told her I loved her, but all I could see was that arrow soaring through the air and into the Talon’s back. And the look on her face when she aimed that gun at me after seeing me drop her father to his death. What we had was tainted somehow, and no matter what happened, it seemed that we’d never get back to what we were. I wasn’t totally sure I was even the same person anymore.

 

All these thoughts flashed by as I walked through the snow-covered grounds of Wayne Manor, up to the oak tree on the hill where Alfred stood waiting for me. Despite Bruce’s plan to keep up the image that he was alive, we decided to hold a token funeral for him. No coffin, no grave, just friends and a few words.

 

Alfred’s face was sunken, he’d aged ten years in the last few weeks, the stress and trauma were all visible in the harsh lines on his visage, and I was sure he’d not been eating properly, I knew I hadn’t been since they sent me home.

 

“Master Grayson,” Alfred said with a polite nod.

 

“Hey, Alf,” I replied, I wanted to ask how he was but looking at him. I wasn’t sure I’d like the answer, “Where is everyone?”

 

“You are uncharacteristically early, sir. Dr Thompkins is in the house; she’ll be up in a moment. And Miss Gordon is on her way, she was collecting Miss Kane from the train station,” Alfred explained.

 

“Kate’s coming?” I said, surprised.

 

“Yes, the Justice League are holding a ceremony of their own, but Miss Kane said she would prefer to grieve with the family.”

 

“Clark called me, asked me to go. I wasn’t up to it.”

 

“I did invite Miss Brown,” Alfred went on, “But she felt it would be an intrusion.”

 

“That’s crazy; she’s earned her place here.”

 

“My thoughts exactly, but she couldn’t be convinced, and alas, I felt my efforts would be better directed tidying up some of Master Bruce’s affairs.”

 

I didn’t say anything, I hated the fact we had to lie about this, and I wanted as little a part in it as possible, though I knew that eventually, I’d have to face people and play along.

 

“Hey Alfred,” Called a voice, it was Kate Kane, also known as Batwoman. She stood to my left and placed a firm hand on my shoulder. I gave her hand an affectionate squeeze but said nothing. Barbara came up on my right and held my hand.

 

Leslie trudged across the snow and held Alfred in a tight embrace, kissing him on the cheek. A tear rolled down the butler’s cheek, which he tried to catch before anyone noticed.

 

“I was here, at Wayne Manor, many years ago when Master Bruce came into this world,” Alfred began, “He was such a kind boy, always curious, always exploring where he shouldn’t have been. Those first years were so wonderful, his brief childhood, I so wish he had not been forced so brutally and callously into adulthood...”

 

Alfred choked up and stopped speaking; he looked as though he might collapse under the weight of his grief. I stepped forward to be nearer to him. Resilient as ever, he raised a hand to halt me and continued, “But, the best of men are often forged in the flames of adversity, and Master Bruce overcame the strife of a childhood left in ruins, he cast himself aside and devoted himself to stopping the madness that snuffed out his innocence. He was... an example to us all.”

 

Leslie spoke too, but it all became white noise, all there was was the dull feeling in the pit of my stomach.

 

For a few moments, we stood in silence. It felt as though they all wanted me to speak, but I couldn’t find the words.

 

Barbara stepped forward and placed a single rose at the foot of the great oak tree, “Goodbye, Bruce.”

 

Leslie kissed Alfred on the cheek, “Come on, let’s get you inside,” She said to him. At first, I thought he might resist, but he nodded and placed a hand on Leslie’s. The two of them walked away, back towards the manor.

 

Barbara and Kate hugged me in turn and followed the other two back inside. I stood there staring at that tree for a while longer, trying to feel something, anything.

 

***

 

Alfred was still maintaining my room at the manor; there wasn’t a speck of dust visible. Every gymnastics trophy shone like the days they were placed in my hands.

 

I stood alone, staring at the poster of the Grey Ghost hung above my old bed. ‘Grey Ghost & The Phantasm’ was Bruce’s favourite movie; we’d watched it together when I was growing up, the final chapter in the Grey Ghost’s story, a parallel to Sherlock Holmes’ Final Problem. The Grey Ghost and his nemesis, the Phantasm, plummet over a dam akin to Holmes and Moriarty tumbling over the Reichenbach Falls.

 

Unlike Holmes, the Grey Ghost never got a resurrection. The writer always intended it to be that way. Bruce said it was better that way, for the story to have a true ending. Bruce’s story was over too; he’d died a hero like Holmes and the Ghost, ridding the world of a great evil. And now, Bruce Wayne could rest.

 

“I have something for you,” Barbara said, appearing in the doorway, “I was going to give it to you in the hospital, but it never seemed like the right time.”

 

She stepped forward and handed me a folded note.

 

“What is it?” I asked.

 

“It’s Melissa’s address in Metropolis; you should go and see her.”

 

I was surprised, I opened the note and saw that the handwriting wasn’t Barbara’s it was Melissa’s.

 

“She came by,” Barbara explained, “The day before they released you, she was standing in the parking lot, and I spotted her.”

 

“But she didn’t come inside?” I asked her, wondering whether she actually even meant for me to have the note at all.

 

“No, I went over, and she gave me the note... Then she got in a cab and left.”

 

“I can’t believe she came back to Gotham, did she say anything?”

 

“She just asked me to give you that and ran off before I could say anything, I called after her, but she just left,” Barbara said, looking sympathetically at me.

 

“Great. So she might not have even wanted to see me.”

 

“But, you want to see her, right?”

 

“After all this? I don’t even know anymore. I have a box of her stuff I guess I could return, but...”

 

“You do what you think is best, just don’t be alone, OK? I know you think you can deal with everything by yourself, and maybe you can, but you don’t _have_ to.”

 

I understood what she was saying, but I did want to be alone, I needed to think, and I knew it wouldn’t be long before she and Alfred were asking me to move into the manor, “Thanks, Barb,” I said with a nod.

 

“I’ll be downstairs,” She smiled, and left the room, closing the door quietly behind her.

 

I looked at the poster again. It was then that I realised, Bruce wasn’t the whole story, he was just a part in the story, and one way or another the story itself was going to continue. I was going to be faced with a decision very soon, the biggest of my entire life.

 

I tore the note in half and let the remains fall to the floor as I headed for the door and turned out the bedroom light.

 

Bruce Wayne could rest, but it was up to me to say if the Batman could do the same.


End file.
